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METHODIST MAGAZINE 



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ClXJARTERLY REVIEW. 



VOLUME XVll. 

NEW SERIES, VOLUME VI. 

1835. 



NEW-YORK, 

PUBLISHED BY B. WAUGH AND T. MA80K» 
TOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, JCT THE CONPSRSKCE 

OFFICE, 200 MULBERRT-STREET. 



J. CoUord, pointer. 
1835. 



CONTENTS. 



JijiY. I. — ^Memoirs of th» Rev. Matthew Henrjf autbor of Com- 

mentariea on the Holj Bible • ., • . 1 

IL— Gospel Purity. A Sermon bj the Rot. John Lindaej* 

of the New-England Conference • . . M 

III. — Memoir of the Rev. John Groff. Bj the Rer. Joseph 

Holdich 45 

IT. — Temperance Refortkiation. A Speech by Mr. Buck* 
ingharo, on the extent, causes, and effects of Drunken- 
ness. Delivered in the house of commons on Tuesday, 
June 3d, 1834 .....•• 51 
« y. — On the Being and Sovereignty of God. A Discourse 
by the Rev. James Nicols, of the M. E. Church, at 

Somerville, N. J 78 

YI. — ^Theological Education • . . . • 85 
YII. — Brief Strictures on the Rev. Mr. Sunderland's ' Essay 

on Theological Education.'' By D. M. Reese, M. D. 105 
YIII.— Reynolds on the Use of the Eyes . . .118 
IX. — President Ruler's Baccalaureate Address . . 121 
X. — D. P. TYhedon's Address on Colonization • • 129 
XI. — Dick's Christian Philosopher .... 188 
XII. — Memoirs of Hannah More. By William Roberts, 

Esq 179 

XIII.— Theological Education 204 

XIY. — An Exegesis of Heb. vi, 4-«6. By the Rev. George 

Peck • . . . . . .221 

XY. — ^Paraphrase on Job 280 

XYI. — The Colonization Cause . • . • 235 

XYn. — A Discourse, delivered in the Methodist Episcopal 
Church, in White Plains, N. T., on Dec. 25, 1834, in 
commemoration of the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
and of the organization of the M. E. Church, fifty years 
ago. By the Rev. P. P. Sandford . . . 241 
XYIII. — A Discourse on Water Baptism, delivered at East 

Greenwich, R. I., by the Rev. James Porter . . 254 
XIX. — A short Essay on the character of the actions and 

sufferings of Jesus Christ By the Rev. T. Merritt 263 
XX. — ^An Address to the young ministers who were admit- 
/ ted into full connection with the Wesleyan Methodist 

conference. By <he Rev. Richard Treffry . . 284 



f 



4 . * COKTKNTS. 

Art. XXI. — Bishop M'llvaine's Charge to the Clergy» deNvered 
before the seventeea^ aoniial convention of the Diocess 
at Chillicothe, Sept. 6th, 1834 . . . ' . 302 
* XXII. — The Moral Influence of the Fine Arts. A Lecture 
delivered before the Boston Wesleyan Lyceum. By 
Edward Otheman . « . . • • .318 

XXIII.— Third Annual Report of the New-Tork Coloniza- 
tion Society. ' 333 

XXIV. — Theological Education . . . . . 347 

XXV.— Geology 862 

XXVL— Favorable Signs of the Times . . . 356 

XXVII. — A Sermon on the Divinity of Jesus Christ. By the 

Rev. John Dempster 361 

XXVIII. — An Essay on Christian Perfection. By B. F. 

Shepard, of the Protestant Episcopal Seminary . 380 

XXIX. — On Preparation to meet God. A Sermon by the 

Rev. H. W. Hilliard, of the Alabama Conference . 394 

XXX. — Memoir of the late Rev. James Townley, D. D. 

By the Rev. Elijah Hoole 401 

XXXI. — Professor Stuart's Essay, on the duty of the 
Churches v^ regard to the use of fermented wine in 
celebrating the Lord's Supper • • • .411 

XXXII. — ^Address delivered at the annual commencement ^ 
of Dickinson college, July 16, 1835, by Robert Emoiy, 
A.M. . 439 

XXXIII.— Address delivered to the Peithologian Society of 
the Wesleyan University, August 25, 1835, by the Hon. 
E. Jackson, Jun. 447 

XXXIV. — ^American Bible Society .... 459 

XXX V.-^Description of a Mound recently discovered on the 

banks of the Genesee river . . . . . 476 

XXXVI. — The nobleness of Humility .... 476 



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THE 

METHODIST MAGAZINE, 

AND 



Vol. XVn, No. 2. APRIL, 1885. New Sb»w«— Vol. VI, No. «• 

PRESIDENT RUTER'S B4CCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 

To the Graduatu and StudmU ofMegkmy College. 

Young Gentlemen, — It is with feelings of lively interest that I 
improve the opportunity now afforded, for the purpose of offermg you 
some advice, upon subjects which may be expected, in future, to claim 
your attention. 

You have arrived at that period in your literary progress, which BMOqr 
circumstances render important, and which seems to promise a rich 
reward to your industry. To this period you have been directing your 
views, with agreeable anticipation, considering it as one that must hold 
a distinguished place among the most interesting seasons of your lives. 
But while it is rendered joyful, from the consideration of your success, 
und the honors conferred upon you, it is also distinguished by being 
the time of your separation. Your pupilage now closes, and you part, 
each from the other, and from your instructors, it may be to meet no 
more upon earth. Leaving the halls of learning, and the grounds con- 
secrated to scienti^c improvement, you enter upon the busy scenes of 
a transitory life, not knowing what joys or sorrows await you in your 
career, what may be your success in life, or your prospects in the hour 
of dissolution. 

While pursuing the various branches of learning included in your 
course, as well as in your earlier studies, you have found that science 
is too valuable a treasure to be acquired without labor, and that those 
who will possess it must exercise energy and perseverance. But 
amidst the toils of investigation, while advancing from one step to 
another still higher in the path of useful knowledge, you have kept in 
mind the value of the object, viewhig it as a rich possession, which, 
being once acquired, can never be wredted from you. Encouraged by 
this consideration, and cheered with the prospects of success, you have 
completed the work assigned you in this institution, and received the 
customary honors. 

But though your pupilage now closes, and you enjoy the approbation 
of your instructors, as having made honorable proficiency, and as pos- 
sessing respectable acquirements, you surely do not consider your edu- 
cation as finished. So far fVom this, it can only be said that you are 
now prepfired to cultivate the sciences by your own skill, without the 
aid you have been accustomed to receive from others. The treasures 
of learning have been spread out before you, and while experiencing 
their difficulties, and tasting some of their aiweets, you must have per- 
ceived that there is an immensity in their resources,. Were you now to 

Vol. VI April, 1835, 11 



122 Prttident Buttr^t Baeeaiaureale Addrtn. 

cberisb an opinion which seems to hare influenced too many othen* 
that, afler leaving college, there is little aeed, and scarcely any room for 
farther improvement, you would disappoint your fiieDds, injure your- 
selves, and Ihil of being extensively useful to society. You may with 
such an opinion enjoy tne brief honor of having had a liberal educatioHt 
but can never hold a distinguished rank as scholars. 

That great inprevements may be made in tine of youtbt is not 
doubted; butthi&iurnisheano evidence that all our acquirements should 
be obtained in that season of life. It is admitted that in early life our 
time should be chiefly employed in the acquisition of useful knowledge. 
. This is a fact of the iitmost importance. The foundation for literary 
houora and eminent usefulness must be laid in the morning of our days. 
Without a good foundation seasonably laid, the superstructure of a 
thorough education can never be built. But it is equally certain, that 
the foundation may be laid, and the superstructure afterward neglected. 
And it is to be regretted that this frequently happens. Many a youth 
of promising talents, instead of rising to usefulness and honor, has 
merely attained a scanty mediocrity, or perhaps sunk into ruins amidst 
ssipation. 

talents unimproved, can never raise one to eminence. 
er born a scholar ; nor is it possible to become one 
lisciplinc. Where this is wanting, genuine scholarship 
But by the aid of this, some of the most discouraging 
leen overcome ; and minds that seemed in their early 
i of advancing, have ultimately reached the highest 
hose that have astonished mankind by their gigantic 
dered their names immortal by scientific researches, 
ed their work, not so much by superiority of natural 
lient attention and persevering industry. Hence it is 
aporlnnce, that those who graduate from our colleges 
ised with the necessity of making continual additions 
lions for usefulness. 
Nor.tt it sufficient that the votaries of learning shouldhe constantly 
adding to their own acquirements, but tbey ought to aim at improving 
the arts and sciences themselves. Shall we be told, that after so many 
improvements no room remains for any others 1 This, we may presume, 
was the cry of the indolent prior to the days of Bacon, Locl(e,-New- 
ton, Herschel, and others, to whose industry and skill the world has 
been so much indebted. It will evqr be tjie cry of all such as wish to 
shun the toil of inveati^tion ; but it will never be true. Rivers may 
dry up, fountains may fail, but the sources of useful knowledge can 
never be exhausted. The progress already made, far from furniahing 
evidence that no more is practicable, affords the best encouragement 
to the adventurer' in the arts, te the searcher after truth, to the lover of 
learnit^. Let this be well fixed in the mind of every student, every 
graduate, every scholar. Let each be resolved on a lUe of activity and 
usefulness. Let the allurements of fashionable romance and light read- 
ing be manfully resisted. Let sound, classical, mathematical, and 
philosophical learning be the Iheme ; and who shall be able to estimate 
the result ? Might we not expect to see light and knowledge extending 
to every land, the arts and sciences in their glory, and their enterprising 
sons rising up to aclipse the litsraiy giants of former centuries I 



Prmdmi Sutet*9 BuecidaureaU Jiddrea. 12S 

But if yoQ wouM be fluccessful in acquiring useful knowledge and 
literary dkttnetion, it will be necessary, not only that you should be 
industrious and persevering in your studies, but likewise that you pur* 
sue a habit of regular thin^ng ; tiiat is, a certain discipline of thou^t* 
by which you may be able to direct your own attention to subjects of 
inyestigation. This habit you have in some degree already attuned. 
Your studies in the languages, in mathematics, and in the philosophy 
of the mind, have assisted in forming it But unless a correct method 
has been kept in your view as a leading object, it is presumaMe that in 
this you may yet make some improvement. In all die pursuits of life, 
much advantage may be derived from this kind of self government, 
and in scientific investigations nothing valuable can be accomplished 
without it. Attention and a habit of cfose thinking are indispensable 
to such as would excel in any branch of profound learning. 

In departing from this institution, and engaging in the active con- 
eems of life, beside cultivating the arts and sciences, and improving 
your own minds, there is another object of Interesting character, which 
we may hope will share your attention and your influence. It is that 
of improving the minds of others* We desire that all who graduate, 
and indeed all that> receive any part of their literary aequiremeate at 
this college, may go from us, carrying with them a proper view of this 
subject, and fully imfMressed with the importance of increasing and ex* 
tending the means of education. 

The division of useful knowledge is essential to the well being of 
society, and indispensable to the preservation of a republican govern- 
ment. Monarchy may be extended and sustained over a population of 
ignorant peasantry, sunk into a state of the lowest degradation and 
slavery. Aristocracy may have a luxuriant growth in a land of darkness 
and superstition. And where no regular government has gained an 
ascendency, an uncultivated people may live in anarchy. But it is only 
in the land of light and learning, of virtue and religion, that liberty and 
free government can find an asylum. The seed may be planted in 
other lands, it may sprout and grow for a seas<5n, but if the people are 
destitute of moral culture, it will wither, decay, and fell to the ground. 
Our own happy government is based upon the virtue and intelligence 
of the people. Let the people be enlightened, let learning and intelli- 
gence be cultivated among all classes, in proportion to their wants and 
the increase of population, and our rights will remain unimpaired. But 
should vice gain a preponderating influence, and corruption prevail in 
our -councils, our government would be ruined, and the nation undone. 

The cultivation of the human mind, by judicious instruction and dis* 
cipline, has been deemed among all enlightened nations a very impor- 
tant object. In some of the most celebrated governments of the 
ancients, it was made a part of their civil institutions. The Hebrews, 
Persians, and Grecians, were all distinguished by their zeal in provid- 
ing schools of learning. Christianity from its first establishment has 
ever been favorable to the moral culture of the human race, by the 
diflusion of learning in conjunction with its own Divine principles. — 
When true religion revived in Europe in the sixteenth century, there 
was a sitnultaneous increase of literature. The education of youth 
beeame an object of general interest, and seminaries of learning, in all 

their varieties then known, were estaUished in the principal kingdoms. 

# 



1S4 Prtatdent Rutn't BaetaiatirtiiU ,Adthrt$. 

Al a more racent date, l)w spirit or imprOTeiMnt, both in the establish- 
ment of Mmimuies, and in the mode of instruction, Ima been reviring, 
both in Europe end America, with a zeal unknown in an^ former age. 
A taste for the sciences ia increasing, Ihe advantages to be derived 
from them are more fiilly appreciated, and much interest is felt in behalf 
of the rising geoeration. Though this interest ia far from being sufB* 
cieatly extended, and multitudes are indifierent, w« trust the time will 
come when it will be cherished in some degree by every citizen. And 
while we desire to see our whole population taking an active part in 
promoting the interests of learning, we expect such as posaeas die 
advantages of an extensive education will use their utmost infhience in 
so important a cause. We hope they will difHise the li^t of science, 
encourage investigation, and make it a part of their business through 
life, to assist in the great work of releasing the human mind from the 
chuns of ignorance and depravity. 

Among the means employed for the early improvement of the hamao 
mind, and the advancement of education, the establishment of infant 
achoolR has recently become an object of attention, and pr<>mises use- 
The design of these schools is, to make early and favorable 
IS upon the infant minds of both sexes, to aid them in thinking, 
ig habits of correct speaking, and to instruct them in the 
of learning. No part of education b more important thui 
giHs the finst bias to the young mind; and whether given 
it, guardian, or instructoT, it is of great importance that it 
of a proper character, and imparted in a suitable maimer.— 
' communicating instruction has never been sufficiently culti- 
appreciated. It is the moft important of all arts ; yet has 
quently entrusted to those, who, in reference to character, 
lirements, and habits, were most unfit for the duty. To polish 
I requires skill in ttie Artist, to polish the diamond requires 
skill ; but to polish the human mind, the utmost effcnis of 
kill should be employed.. 

wers of the nlind render it capable of early improvement. In 
their plays and amusements, children are found engaged in counting 
and making calculations ; and we are often surprised at the readiness 
of their conceptions, the aptitude of their remarks, and the distinctness 
of their recollections. It is in these early seasons that durable impres- 
sions, of a suitable kind, should bemade. 

If early education be neglected, the ctHisequence is not merely a 
loss of time that might have been spant in leanting, nor is it the mi8<^ief, 
only, of remaining in ignorance. Those that are thus neglected will 
acquire habits of idleness and vice, which are often unconquerable in 
their nature and ruinous in their effects. Nothing is more advan- 
tageous to young minds, than employment and exercise ; of such a 
nature, also, as will be pleasing, profitable, and calculated to fix upon 
them habits of improving their time. Though parents and guardians 
who are skilful in giving instructions may do much for those entrusted 
to their care, nothing can supply the advantages of a well-regulated 
school, under the management of a qualified instructor. 

Under the denomination of common Eogliah schools, we compre- 
bend the most numerous class of seminaries in the United States.— 
And as these are intended to difiliae learning amcwg a greater number 



than any oth^ class of schools, th«7 merit a support aod patronage 
ftqual to their importance, fiigfaty thousand of these schools, exclu- 
sive of our numerous and valuable Sabbath schools, would scarcely 
be sufficient to supply the youth of onr nation ; yet they fall far short 
of that number. With the exception of the northern states, which have 
an excellent establishment of schools, our country presents a general 
deficiency. The merchant is industripus to accomplish an enterpr^ie, 
the mechanic, to improve his production, and the planter* to cultivate 
his lands ; but schools have been neglected, and the eultivati<m of the 
mind is often viewed as unnecessary, or as a secondary object This 
neglect of moral improvement, fraught with so much loss to the ind^ 
vidual sufferers, so much mischief to the community, and which is in 
Itself so ruinous to civil institutions, seems to require the prompt and 
effectual interference of the legislature of every state vvhere such defi- 
ciency exists. In our own state a sjrstem has been recently adopted, 
which promises much good to the community, and cannot fail of receiv- 
ing the blessing of Heaven. 

Nothing ta wanting to render the cause of education successful, and 
to secure the prosperity of our colleges and academies, but a sufficient 
number of those schools, in which both sexes may acquire a thorough 
English education. The number of pupils would be increased, a durst 
for the higher branches of learning would be created, and academic 
institutions would have extensive patronage. Where academies are 
rendered prosperous, collegiate education mil be duly estimated, and 
literary institutions of the highest gradation will be encouraged. 

In Europe, though there is a great deficiency of instruction among 
the peasantry, colleges and universities are numerous, richly endowed, 
and generally well attended. The oldest are those at Oxford, Cam- 
bridge, Paris, Salamanca, and Bologna. In the United States, also, 
Ihey are numerous, though many of diem are defidient in their endow- 
ments. With the growSi of the country we may expect they will 
advance, both in their resources and facilities for instruction, until they 
shall vie with die befst institutions of the eastern continent The con- 
nection of manual labor with collegiate studies is believed to be a 
valuable improvement, favorable to health, and calculated greatly to 
increase the means of acquiring extensive learning. 

But amidst the great work of diffusing the light of science, some at- 
tention is due to the mode of instruction. We see numerous improve- 
ments in other things, and it would seem discouraging indeed if none 
GouM be made in the art of cultivating the mental faculties. In sur- 
veying the powers of the mind, we perceive the desire of esteem, of 
power, and of knowledge, almost universal. This last desire is con- 
spicuous even in children, nor does it usually forsake them in riper 
years. Novelty is considered as one great source of the pleasures of 
taste, without which other pleasures often lose their relish. That 
there may be some that do not desire learning, but seem to love igno- 
rance for its own sake, is not denied. But we think these cases may 
be attributed to other causes than that of an original aversion to know- 
ledge. We have, nevertheless, the fact before us, that while the desire 
of knowledge is very general, many young minds manifest an aversion 
to seminaries of instruction. Is not this attributable to a deficiency in 
the methods of teaching, or in &e chturacter of the teacher? Many 

11* 



196 Pritidmt BuUr't Bmeea l aweale MArttt. 

have ample literaiy Bcquirem^ts, and yet eie incspable of instructing'. 
Like gold buried \a the earth, their learning is inaccessible, their efforts 
to impart it to others are unavailing. Teachers not understanding the 
philosophy of the human mind, have thought it necessary to put on 
airs of sternness and austerity, lest they should not be teepected. — 
Hence, in many instances, students have been led to look upon their 
instructors as tyrantti, upon their studies as slavish, and upon semina- 
ries of learning as little else than prisons. But as it never was the 
design of religion, so neither was it of learning, to assume a monkish 
sourness, and repulsive austerity of maimers. If these must exist 
among human beings, the convMit surely is the proper place for them. 
There let lazy ignorince and gloomy superstition fix their eternal 
dwelling ; but let seminaries of learning be places of social and rational 
exercise, such as are favorable to ialellectual improvement. 

The grand design of education comprehends tiie branches of physi- 
cal, intelleclual, and moral. It embraces whatever is proper for the 
health, strength, and growth of the body, and for storing the mind with 
ing, good tastB) and moral principles. All these are indis- 
a good education, and the omission of any one of there 
\f it very defective. The physical part requires plentiful 
ther by manual labor or otherwise, and regular habits in 
ind study. The intellectual part requires effort and industry, 
part of the teacher and student, but is never difficult, when 
d incliriation, as they ever ought to be, are on the side <^ 
It And if our views were confined to the present life, 
rence to the future, even then moral principle would be in- 
Without it, civil government could not be sustained, the 
i obligations would be violated, individual rights would 
regarded, and anarchy would gain the ascendency. tVe 
talk loudly of the dignity and perfection of human nature ; 
md the praises of reason and philosophy ; but without the 
norat and religious influence, all our valuable institutions 
Dto ruin and desolation. But if moral principle is essential 
the present life only, bow much more so In prospect of an 
eternal existence. The soul of man, like his body, has its infancy. — 
Its facilities expand slowly, or rapidly, in proportion, not so much to 
the growth of the body, as to its privileges, opportunities, and indus- 
try. And although the body may reach in a certain time its utmost 
limits, we know of no established limits to the growth of the soul. — 
No boundaries are affixed to our progress in knowledge and piety in 
the present state, and we have strong evidence that none will exist in 
the state that is before us. In prospect, then,- of usefulness and hap- 
pmess in this life, and of an eternal existence hereafler, let this last 
and most important requisite of a good education be kept in view. 

But beside promoting the cause of education by encouraging schools, 
academies, and colleges, there are other means of improvement merit- 
ing our notice, which may be rendered useful, not only to the rising 
generation, but to all classes of our citizens. The encouragement of 
general reading, by the establishment of libraries in our towns and villa- 
ges, and in the populous parts of the country, would secure great 
advantages at a small expense. And it is desirable that students, in 
leaving the college, should be sensible of dkeir impoitaBce m the great 



Pr0Mmt Jtii<M^« B4U€6lmtreaii JUdrm. 197 



work of moral and tnental eultivation^ Tke iUuatrioiui Franklin 
instrumental in the formation of a library in his adopted city, which is 
now one of the largeat and moat valuable in the United Statea. Lei 
those who know the value of useful knowledge* and such as feel the 
want of ity follow his example. If they cannot make large collectionst 
and form libraries containing thousands of volumes, let them gather 
hundreds ; and where this cannot be eflfectedt let general reading be 
encouraged by the circulation of tracts and periodicals. At any ex* 
pense, and by all rational means> let instruction be imparled« and 
useful knowledge diffused throughout every land. 

Thus, gentlemen, an extensive field of usefulness is open before 
you, aboimding in the fairest pro^ctSi and affording the richest enter* 
tainments of intellectual delight. Nor is it suitable that you should 
enjoy this feast in solitude, while you behold the means for gathering 
multitudes of all classes of the community, and of both aexest partieik 
larly the youth, to share it with you. And so rich are the stores of 
learning, that no increase of her votaries can ever exhaust her treasuresu 
The sun of science, like the sun in the heavens, may shine on millions 
of others, without lessening his benign influence upon us. And thaogh 
millions should emerge from the glooms of ignorance and degradation 
to the most exalted attainments, far from diminishing, it could but «n> 
crease the satisfaction of every intelligent spectator. Nor can we 
doubt that the days of darkness and ignorance are passing away, to be 
succeeded by a glorious -dawn upon the most benighted coontriaa.— 
The arts and sciences are the handmaids of the Gospel, under whose 
glorious dispensation we now live. And while that is flying with the 
wings of the morning to every nation, diffusing its heavenly influence 
'among men, they will follow it, and be in all places its ready 
attendants. 

GOf then, to your places of destination, with firmness of purpose ; 
cultivate useful knowledge in your own minds, cherish it in the minds 
of others. Encourage the establishment of schools, libraries, and 
literary societies ; remembering, at all times and places, that to assist 
m raising the human mind from its degradation, in difiiising learning 
and religion, and promoting the well being of society, will secure the 
great objects of the present life, and cannot fail of receiving the appro* 
bation of Heaven. 

But in addressing you, as I now do, at one of the most momentous 
periods of your existence, I cannot close without urging more fiilly 
and specifically the importance of experiment^ and practical piety.-— 
With the learned and the unlearned, with the rich and the poor, in 
prosperity and adversity, in life and in death, this is the most valuable 
of aJl treasures. Without this treasure, learning itself can never 
qualify you for happiness. With it, all other blessings will appear in 
tiieir fairest characters. This is the Divine principle that raises fallen 
man from a state of ruin, and restores him to the image of his Maker. 
This directs his steps from the frowns of guilt and condemnation, to 
the smiles of Divine favor, and fits him for the society of angels. 

Pedantry and superficial philosophy may tell you that this subjectis 
doubtful, and ought |o be approached with caution. The i^, half- 
instructed skeptic may endeaaror to discourage you by crying *-myst»y,' 
and alleging that a cloud hovers over us, limitmg our views, and com- 



128 Prmdmi RtUer^i Jlae<;almfreale JSUdre$$. 

petting U8 to renudn in uncertain^. But. profound learning, sound 
erudition, pierces this cloud and dispels the gloom ; presenting to U9 
the sure word of prophecy, supported by authentic evidence, giving us 
the promise of the life that now is fmd of that which is to come. In 
this sacred word, we find a complete system of morals, the doctrines 
of evangelical truth, and a compendium of the sciences. Here is ex- 
hibited the true foundation upon which is built the glorious superstruc- 
ture of Christianity, extending from earth to heaven ; by means of 
which hundreds of millions will escape the snares of deatii, and gain 
eternal blessedness. 

And if the enemies of the cross tempt you to the opposite course, 
urging you to the pursuit of vain pleasures, to the stupid and ruinous 
amusements of gaming and dissipation, let them not prevail. They 
have the passions and appetites enlisted on their side, but we have 
reason and revelation on ours. And when the cup of infidelity is pre- 
sented to your lips, we trust you will be able to refiise the poisonous 
draught, and to meet with firmness all such a^ offer it. Do they talk of 
philosophy f Recollect that the greatest among all the philosophers was 
a devoted Christian. Tes, the great Newton was a Christian. Follow 
him and his associates in learning, but follow them likewise in true 
rd||||on. While with Newton you measure the heavens, and the orbs 
viHKi decorate them ; while with Boyle you examine the regions of 
organic nature ; with Bacon deduce from individual facts the laws of 
the material world ; with Herschel mount to the firmament, and learn 
the wonders of astronomy from the heavenly bodies themselves ; or 
with Locke explore the mysterious powers u>d operations of the mind ; 
with these same illustrious authors, go from nature to nature's God. 
Read His Divine character in the book of nature ; read it in the book 
of revelation, andjeam it more closely by receiving His Holy Spirit, 
and sharing His salvation. 

This sacred treasure wiU enable you to meet with equal firmness 
both tile faces of fortune. In days of prosperity it will preserve you 
from the vices of insolence and ingratitude ; in days of adversity it 
will fill you with peace and quietness, strewing your rough path with 
flowers, and sweetening the bitter cup of affliction. And should you 
ever meet with an hour when earthly prospects shall fail, when friend- 
ship itself fiAiall forsake you, then may you find relief in this unfailing 
source of consolation ; then shall you be able to trust in its Divine 
Author, whose law is l6ve,'and who has taught us to forgive and love 
our enemies. In all the vicissitudes of life, amidst the infirmities of 
age and the prospects of dissolution, this supplies a refuge from the 
storm, turning darkness into day, and inspiring the bright hope of im- 
mortality. Let this be the grand object in your view in all the pursuits 
of life, and it will be an enduring treasure, that oblivion cannot hide 
nor time destroy. Earthly honors will pass away, the laurels of the 
hero will fade, cities and kingdoms be blotted from the world ; but this 
shall brighten in the shades of death, and flourish through the eternal 
ages. With the pleasing hope that you may feel its influence in life, 
enjoy its consolations in death, and share its riches in a future state, 
I commend you to that God who has watched over your childhood, 
guarded your youth, and is able to crown you with life and felicity. 



D. D. Whtdam'M JUdtm cm (khmzaHem. Itf 



AN ADDRESS 

DdkerBd before theMiddMovm CoUmizatum Soeieith oi their A nmua i 
Mutk^gf Juhf 4th^ 1884. By D. D. Whbdoic, Prefteeor ofLan- 
gfMffte in the Wiuleyan UntvMVtfjf. 

In presentiDg to the audience the interests of the eocietjr whose 
cause I advocate, I am conscious of an appropriate unison between 
the subject and the day. To embalm the memory of the illustrious 
dead, — to recall before the mind's eye the scenes of our past eventful 
history, — ^to contemplate the blessings and the privileges with which all- 
bounteous Providence hath crowned our happy hmd, might indeed 
furnish matter for spirit-stirring thought; but what more grateful 
homage can we pay to the illustrious departed, or what greater proof of 
our worthiness of such an ancestry, than to aid in diffusing over other 
continents, the freedom which their heroism, under God, purchased 
for- ours ? 

The Colonization Society, in its origm, history, and purposes, is 
unique and original. Liberia stands alone upon the world's map-* 
alone in the world's history. Other emigrations have gone fortht— « 
but they have been driven by persecution, or lured alone by hardy ad* 
venture ; other national projects have been founded,--4Mit they have 
been based merely upon the hope of gain or of ambition : this alone has 
gone forth from the spontaneous outpourings of private Christian 
munificence, and laid its foundations not merely upon the basis of self 
aggrandizement, but upon the eternal principles of national benevolence 
and universal plulanthropy. 

Its origin was as striking as is its character. Within a small room^ 
in the nation's capital, in the year 1817, some twelve men assembled, 
unsunrounded by any of the insignia of power, save the dignity of their 
own noble characters, quietly and calmly to project the plan so portentous 
of bright hopes to unconscious, slumbering Afiica. It was a scene 
which the heart suppresses its pulsations to contempbite. Were they 
even conscious of the simply, yet striking sublimity of theur.own move* 
ments ] Some calculations of a grand prospective might have opened 
upon them, but national events and gigantic enterprises were business 
matters to such minds. Happy men ! many of you have enjoyed hours 
of proud triumph, but none so thrilling a moment as that : some of you 
will have left honorable memorials of your existence, but none a more 
illustrious monument than the enterprise of that memorable day. 

A project so bold was littie likely to be received with universal con<* 
currence. The era of stupendous philanthropic enterprise had not then 
arrived ; the timid trembled at it as impracticable, and the skeptical 
ridiculed it as visionary. The advocates of slavery, almost en maese^ 
were opposed to it as likely to disturb, ultimately, the existing state of 
things. A few even of these lor awhile supported it, under the notion, 
that by rendering slavery more safe, it would confirm the permanence 
of that relation. Their desertion, while it subtracted something from 
its numerical strength, did, by relieving the steadfast and philantiiropic 
slave-holding supporters from the suspicion of similar interested mo- 
tives, really add to its. moral force. The jealous northerner could 



130 J9. A fVh$daii^$ Addrei$ on Cf^amzMHan. 

hardly believe that any philanthropy could come from a slave holder, 
and it required this aifUng to bring out, in clear relief and bold action, 
the ilave^holding enemy of $lavery. Slowly and gradually did these 
jealoittiies lessen ; national philantlvopy has constantly been disclosing 
in new effort the energies that were slumbering in her arm ; and in 
accordance with the spirit of the age, the Colonization Society has 
gone on, trusting to the splendor of its success for the refutation of the 
calumnies it endured, and exulting in the complete vindication of its 
own resplendent beneficence, in me ultimate monument of its labors, 
beyond the broad Atlantic. 

The first direct movement of the Colonization Society, was in the 
year 1817, to send out two agents, (one of whom' was the lamented 
Samuel J. Mills,) for the purpose of exploring the western coast of 
Afirica. In 1820, eighty-eight colonists, under the care of three agents, 
were sent ; but as they arranged matters so unfortunately as to arrive 
there during the sickly rainy season, the news was soon annoimced 
in this country, that the three agents, with more than twenty colonists, 
were carried 6ff by the fever of the climate, heightened by exposure, 
fatigue, and want of medical aid. By no means disheartened at this 
melancholy result, the succeeding year twenty-eight more colonists 
^ere sent out, the spot was selected, the emigrants settled, and at the 
'litose of the year 1821, the foundations were laid of that colony, which 
Sis since received the name of Liberia, 

The country to which this appropriate name has been given, is a 
sea- coast strip of about ^80 miles in length and 30 in breadth, sepa- 
rated from the eastern interior by a belt of almost impassable forests. 
Its soil, well watered by beautiful streams, is said to reward an easy 
cultivation with all the productions ^ tropical climates. The harbor 
of Monrovia, the principal town, pronounced to be the best between 
Gibraltar and the Cape of Good Hope, is already visited by the flags 
of the different commercial nations. The varied successes and cala- 
mities, resulting sometimes from inevitable providences, and sometimes 
from the errors and mismanagements incident to so untried a scheme, 
and the statements which would result in the obviation of many popu- 
lar objections, I have not time to detail. Catastrophies it has suffered, 
but these have been merely sufficient to try the nerve, not to dishearten 
the soul. It has been keenly and justly scrutinized, but has never 
shrunk ; it has been fiercely scathed, but not broken. About twelve 
years have passed since her first founding, and yet, through vicissitude 
and disaster, through the desertion of friends and ihe hostilities of op- 
ponents, through invasion and disease, Liberia has held her triumphant 
way ; and never more triumphant than at the present moment, she 
still stands the child of Christian benevolence, the nursling of a guardian 
providence, the hope of unborn nations. 

It is not denied that its enemies may point to many errors and 
ffdlnres, but these are merely incidentals which affect not the main 
question ; while on the other hand, it may be safely asserted that not 
only has the colony accomplished all that could have been expected 
in so brief a progress, but that few benefactions, at so small an expense, 
occupying so little hitherto of public attention, and in the face of so 
formidable an opposition, have effected so much good. Upon the very 
spot where Liberia now presents an asylum of liberty, was once the 



A D. WMM9 Mirm m ColomxMmu 181 

theatre of the shtve trade, the market place of homan aoiilt. Without 
dakmng that Uie eolosy is a fHtNMliire latBati ini ii, it maj oonlidendy 
be asserted that a setdement possessiiig even the ayeraffe iiionlitf 
of an American village ^th its mtellectiMl advanta^^esy wm be, in the 
so sarcasltcallj echoed language of Mr. Clayt *a missioiiarj of ciyiti- 
cation and religion.' No one who has observed the susceptflnli^ of 
the African character to the influences of civilisatioB, can reasooabiy 
doubt the efficacy of such a contiguity ; and it Kttle becomes the pn>* 
fessed peculiar friend of the negro to depreciate the noble truts tlmt 
characterize that race. The native of our forests seems all but inacces- 
sible to our most philanthropic effi>rts« Invite him to a civilised home, he 
comes and goes— -a savage. Educate him, and he flies hack to his forest 
again — a savage. Isolate a whole tribe within surrounding civiliza- 
tion, and he withers and dies away— a savage. But the African, on 
the other hand, with a spirit which, rightly understood, is above all 
ridicule, and susceptible of the noblest direction, loves the privileges, 
aspires to the refinements, and catches the decorums of social life. 
Yet he does this, under the pressure of a cruel and overwhelming pub- 
lic contempt ; he does it at the expense of an infamous ridicule, which 
finds a warrant for heartless insult in the color of his face, wherever 
he shows it. But if this be here the case, under the weight of so tre- 
mendous an oppression, what must be the fact when he stands uponf 
his own free soil, where ridicule hushes its cowardly tones, and hd: 
acknowledges no superior but his God ? Can it be that these noble 
elements wiU not take a still nobler aspiration, when the exalting pros- 
pect of freedom and of empire open before him, upon his own ancestral 
land 1 His spirit would swell at the touch of his own free soil like the 
Highland duePs, restored to his country and his clan, when ^his 
(dot was again upon his native hills, and his name was M'Gregor !' 
And when the splendid miracles of civilized life are exhibited, in all 
their wonders, before the native African, who, possessiag the same 
original noble capacity, has never bowed his neck to the slaver's 
chain, — ^when he learns, by the example of his own brother, of his own 
hue, that these are not die patent prerogatives of a white skin, will 
not the same predisposition to catch and arrogate the proud advantages 
of elevatf d character, prompt them to seize and transfer fron» man to 
man, and from tribe to tribe, the ennobling t|ua]ities to be acquired from 
civilization, science, and Christianity ? I appeal to fact. Upon the 
shore of Africa is arising an infant nation, exhibiting gradually many 
of the blessings of organized government ; its schools are ofiering the 
rudiments, and its high schools will soon offer the superior branches of 
education ; its infant cities, extending jtheir streets over a soil to which 
they are giving a constantly-rising value ; its press, diffusing the means 
of popular information ; its harbors^ visited by the floating banners of 
the different naUons of the earth ; its courts and its legislative halls 
dictating and dispensing wholesome laws, and its sacred spires point- 
ing to heaven, emblematic of that religion whose spirit breathes their 
\\£e into all these institutions, and offers the same blessings of science 
and of salvation even to them^ And what are the effects 1 Brief time 
as these causes have had to develope and operate, and retarded as they 
have been by accidental misunderstandings, pushed into open hostili- 
ties, already has many a prelude to a full appreciation of these advan- 



tagea displayed itself. Tlioiisuids b«ve put themselves uttder the 
pfotection of tbe colimy ; their youth are catchiiig the spirit of educar 
tioo ; surroundiDg nations are anxious for the advantages of their inter* 
course, and neighboring kings have been clamorous fw the benefits 
of their friendship. The conquest of prejudices, the exhibiticMi^the 
utilities of civil life, and the transfqnnation of the eharacter* are not 
indeed the work of so brief a day. Who does not know that the com* 
mencement (nresents the great contest; that every new gain wUl pre- 
sent new facilities for stiU greater successes?' Of the hundreds your 
schools educate, each may become the teacher, in geometric ratio, of 
other hundreds, and you know not what enkindling spark, rising and 
spreading, like the conflagration of our own summer prairies, may 
diffuse its light, uid shed a new lustre over that now benighted, yet 
noble-spirited population. 

I hear you say, periiaps, ^ Aye, but this is too romantic a picture 
for plain matter of fact men.' I am addressing a Christian assembly ; 
in many who are most skeptical on this subject, I cordially recognize 
the Christian character. Of them I ask. Shall Ethiopia stretch forth 
her hands to God? Shall the earth be full of the knowledge of the Lord 
as the waters cover the sea 1 And shall Africa be overspread with the 
light of Christianity and civilization ? The picture then is touched, not 
arith the hues of romance — ^but of inspiration. The coloring is not 
Viine,— but your Bible's ; — and I am but a faint copyist. Tou grant 
then, that the hope is not visionary ; the scheme is not impracticable. 
Our purpose is to realize this picture, and you concede that ^at purpose 
will be accomplished. And what auxiliary more effective could the 
missionary enterprise desire, than Liberia presents ? Here may be the 
grand depot of resources ; the great organization of plans^ What 
fitter place for the herald of Christianity to rest his foot, and replume his 
wing for his flight into the dark interior ? 

But it is not in revelation alone that I read noble promises of renova- 
tion for Africa. He studies men and things carelessly and coldly, who 
does not discover consoling lessons of hope for the future. The series 
of past history, — ^the progressive character of the human mind, — (tie 
successively-brightening dispensations of Providence tell me, that the 
world is a school whose bitterest lessons have been learned, and whose 
brightest are yet to come.- Does any man believe that Africa shall not 
yet show jl brighter page, or fear that perpetual darkness is to wrap 
her fair fields and fertile vales ] No ; the genius of the age, — ^the 
spirit of Christian enterprise, — ^the character, the command, and the 
promises of Heaven forbid it, and cheer us on in the prosecution 
of our great design. 

It has been the fortune of Liberia to live down objection, and to 
stand in herself their triumphant refutation. An eminent and revered 
character who has avowed a change of views, adverse to the Coloniza- 
tion Society, has stated that by the non-consent or unanimous oppo- 
sition of the colored people of this country, ' the society is morally 
tmnihiUUed,^ Now, laying aside the refutation of this assertion, which 
arises from the fact that want of emigrants has never been one of the 
embarrassments of the society, we may confidendy look to the success 
of the colony t for tke efiecting an entire and opportune change of their 
views of the subject. So far is the opposition of the mass of the 



A 2>. WhedtmU Aidr€$9 on CdonizutimL 133 

eolored populalion from being a moral a$mihUaUon of the colony, that 
it is altogether probabk that it has been its preservation. Had it 
been universally popular^ previous to die full success of the colony, and 
had there been a rush, in mass, of our colored population, fetal indeed 
might hate been the result But meanwhile they have entertained 
fearful visions of the inhospitable and pestilential character of the 
country; and the colored man has learned to prefer this land of 
civilization, with all its oppressions, to the unknown horrors of such a 
re^e. Liberia has appeared to him a monster beyond the ocean« 
whose voracity was ever insatiable, and whose cry was ever clamorous 
for victims like him. Nor have the views of his advisers been apparently 
much more correct. The simple offer of the Colonization Society to 
aid htqa, if he preferred to enugrate, has by a strange application of 
terms been styled banishment, forcible expatriation, and what not. 
Leaving this infelicitous misinanagemeni of words to its own fate, we 
are confident that the colored men of this country will, without any 
logic of ours^ become completely . disabused on this subject. The 
colony itself will console their fears, and render any forcible expulsion 
unnecessary. Liberia will yet proudly rise, be her own vindicator, 
and their asylum. Four the energies of national philanthropy upon 
her ; make her resplendent with success ; and, rising like a beacon of 
hope and of refuge, the power of the attraction on her part over the 
negro will render perfectly unnecessary any repulsion upon ours. 

But not less striking will be the eifect of the colony upon those who 
may ultimately remain. ' An earnest, and no doubt philanthropic de- 
sire is expressed, by the professed friends of tlm colored population, 
for the elevation of Iheir character among us. I fully coincide in that 
desire^ and deeply reprobate any causes operating to prevent a just 
amelioration of their condition. At the same time, however, we may 
differ, materially, with regard to the means of efTecting such a purpose. 
1 would, at least, be cautious, how I inspired them with a sullen venom 
toward evils which at present were irremovable. I would hesitate to 
produce a transformation in their character, which should place them 
in a warfare of feeling against the whites, that may aggravate, but can 
never relieve their misery. This constitutes to them a bitter taste 
of the tree of knowledge ; for while it does not really elevate their 
character, it draws down upon them more heavily that very depression 
which constitutes their misery. This is, in fact, precisely reversing 
the desired effect, for it is redoubling the great cause of their 
depression — the severe and contemptuous opinion of the whites 
toward them. 

Let then some triumphant vindicator of their character stand forth 
upon the world^s eye ; prove the native nobleness of their minds, and 
dissolve the strange association that exists between a negro and a semi- 
brute ; and you demolish the evil in its strong hold, for you abolish 
the deep-laid prejudices of the whites. Such a vindicator the success 
i>f Liberia would present. For once, in the course of modem history, 
you will give the negro chara<;(er fair play for developing itself, and 
one such tangible, living, towermg demonstration will be worth ten 
thousand abstract arguments. 

Nor less effective will be the operation toward the grand result— 
the final staying of the curse-^he ultimate abolition of slavery. 

Vol. VI Mpik 1835. 12 



134 D. D. WhedonU dddre$$ an CoUmizaUan* 

JETvery lAherian ship^ eommisnoned by African enierprist^ toouM wave 
its banners within aurporia^ a more powerful preacher of emancipaiion 
than a whole flying cohort of itinerant lecturera. Laying aside the 
consideration, that the withdrawal of the dangerous influence of the 
free blacks would give the master a breathing spell from the horror 
' of his fears, and permit the operation of better and kindlier feelings ; 
laying aside the consideration, that by providing the emancipating slave 
master a safe method, and the slave a secure refuge, it would relieve 
the country from the dangers of pouring upon society a vagabond 
horde from the southern hot houses ; aside, I say, from these important 
considerations, it must be, that every expanding institution upon the 
African coast, should cause the negro to ^ swell beyond the measure of 
his chain.' He is own brother to a rising nation, and the master cannot 
be blind to the dignifying effect of the relationship. Upon that rising 
people the nations of the civilized world are collecting their philan- 
thropy ; and that generous sentiment must reflect in sympathy upon 
the slave, and indignation upon the still remaining masters. Under 
the united effect of these intense and concentrated and increasing 
influences, it cannot but be, that the iron fetter shall dissolve from 
around the slave, and he join the emancipated nations of the earth. 

For many years, the main contest of the Colonization Society was 
with the friends of slavery, the timid jealousies of fearful supporters, 
and the intrinsic difliculties of the project itself. - Of late, however, it 
has arisen from a new and unexpected quarter — the professed and 
ardent patrons themselves of the negro. In the year 1832, a new 
scheme announced itself for his relief, designing to erect itself upon 
the ruins of the colonization plan. In brief, the proposition of the eman* 
cipationist is, to induce the southerner to immediately free his slaves. 
The proposition of the colonizationist is, to offer to all who are freed, 
the opportunity and facilities of a spontaneous voluntary emigration, 
to the land from which the slave has been stolen. Now upon tlie 
first flush one is inclined to ask, What is there incompatible in these 
two plans'? If the emancipationist have any means of peaceably 
inducing the southerner to manumit the slave, why not a^ply to it, and 
allow the colonizationist, in his own sphere, to complete the benefac* 
tion, by restoring every manumitted slave, who desires it, to the land 
of his ancestry? Will the emancipationist reiterate the stale objection, 
that colonization timidly leaves the relation of master and slave undis- 
turbed, and so abandons the poor negro to the cruelty of his oppressor? 
Then let him apply himself, not to destroy the benefit of colonization, 
but to supply the field of benevolence which it leaves untouched. 
What should we say, were the Bible Society to denounce the missionary 
scheme, because it impiously supported the- plan of evangelizing the 
world, by mere fallible men, and left the benighted heathen to pciish 
for want of the volume of inspiration ? In both cases, each society 
has, and should have, without impeding the other, its own sphere of 
operation. 

But the very originator of the new scheme settled, in the outset, 
all question of compromise. His scheme came forth from his brain, 
like Pallas from Jupiter's, armed and equipped with wariike procla- 
mation, and belligerept attitude. Under a better command, the broad 
sea of universal benevolence might have been wide enough for both ; 



D. D. WhtixmU Miirun on CobntVolJMi. 1B5 

and iheir superadded auxiliary banners might, perhaps, have waved 
under better auspices, in hope and freedom to Africa : but their first 
launch was defiance, their first salute, a broadside. Bir. Garrisoa 
announced his opposition, in a style warm with fulminating energy, and 
rich with inventiveness of imagination. He pronounced the society a 
* conspiracy against human rights ;* he asserted that * the superstructure 
of the society rests upon the following pillars— 1. Persecution; 2. 
Falsehood ; 3. Cowardice ; 4. Infidelity.' ' If,' says he, ' I do not 
prove the Colonization Society to be a creature without Imdns, eyeless, 
unnatural, hypocritical, relentless, and unjust, let me be covered with 
confusion of face.' This pretty bouquet of epithets was cuUed, let it 
be remembered, for such men as Lafayette, President Madison, Judge 
Marshall, Bishops Mead and M'Kendree, Webster and Frelinghuysen, 
men of different sections, political parties, and religious denominations. 
Of this liberal spirit, Mr. Garrison has made no monopoly; he has 
imparted the same style of rhetoric to his whole sohooL The master 
chorister has given the key note, and the tune has been run through 
the whole octave of discordant strains. 

The professed purposes of the Anti-Slavery Society, with regard to 
slavery itself, will be considered as twofold* — ^The awakening a more 
active abhorrence of slavery in the north ; and the inducing the south- 
erners to bring about the immediate emancipation of their slaves. 

To effect the former of these two purposes, all the topics of glowing 
declamation, of which slavery is so fertile, are put in requisition. 
Most conclusive proofs of tiie negro'd right to his liberty, where 
nobody doubts it ; most fervid denunciations of slavery, where no 
slavery exists ; most magnanimous professiops of a readiness for mar- 
tydom, where there is no danger of it ; and a most prudent avoidance 
o£ those regions where there might be such a danger, constitute a 
very rich field, for a very safe display of heroics and tragics. To such 
a paroxism of rhetoric, the cool New-Englander listens, and when it 
b spent, he feels, perhaps, inclined to reply, ^ Why, sir, if it be 
merely your purpose to prove that slavery is horribly bad, or that two 
and two make four, from my very soul, I never doubted one of these 
facts more than the other.' He most justly feels that there is a great 
waste of logic and oratory expended in inculcating such feelings upon 
him. Not blazing out into angry effervescence, but deep in his heart, 
there is an abhorrence of slavery, whether pressing upon the caste of 
India, the serf of Russia, or the negro of Carolina, which renders this 
declamation quite a superfluity. 

But these stirring movements are but preparatory to their other 
grand purpose of inspiring the southern mind with the purpose of 
manumitting their slaves. With regard to the practicability of imme- 
diate emancipation, I shall say noting ; for there exists a previous 
consideration, which, in my humble opinion, should, of itself, put an 
arresting veto upon the abolitionist's career. It is one tfaong to 
demonstrate that practicability to the New-Englander, and another 
thing to bring it home upon the. southerner : and every procedure 
of the abolitionist has tended to close the southern ear against him. 
The very worst temper shut^ the valve against the very best argument. 
To whisper a syllable of all the palliating circumstances that mitigate 
the slave holder's guUt, they denounce as an infamous apology for- 



136 JD« D. fVhedon'a Addrna on Cobmizaium. 

slavery. They paint the master, bom to his condition, in all the 
blackness of the original kidnapper; they make it a crime in the 
oolonizationist, that he holds possession of the most liberal slave 
master's confidence : the late report of the New*England Anti-Slavery 
Society hurls forth the reproach, with marks of exclamation, that the 
legislatures of five slave-holding states had passed highly encomiastic 
resolutions upon the Colonization Society ; and are these the men 
whom the south are likely to adopt as their guides and counsellors 1 
On the contrary, the presence of their publications would be cursed, 
as a calamitous visitation of destruction. It destroys the confidence 
between master and slave, rendering the' former fearfully suspicious, 
and the latter more terribly oppressed ; it checks the rising sytnpathy, 
crushes the expanding liberality, and binds faster the iron fetter. By 
a strange fatuity, this society proclaims the fact, (as if utterly uncon* 
scious how much they were its causes,) that during the last two years 
five slave-holding states had passed laws of still more rigorous severity 
than had ever yet disgraced their statute books. ^Vainly do they tell 
us that these facts but prove and aggravate the southern infatuation. 
Our reply is, — Admit their guilt in all its damning blackness, your 
precepts but instigate them, in fact, to still deeper crime ; and your 
protection plunges the slave in still darker misery. ' You would con- 
vince the south, while the south is one mass of adamant, against every 
syllable you send upon her, and every movement you make but con- 
firms the solidity. Your main Success is in defeating yourselves ; 
your advance is — ^backward ; and when the bonds of the slave shall 
be iuially broken, it will be, not in consequence, but in spite of your 
8adly*mistaken efforts. 

But you will rouse the slumbering apirit of the north, then. Alas ! 
what will you then have gained towi^d persuading the slave holder of the 
south l AH the north may most religiously hokl to abolitionism, and 
all the south may most impiously denounce it Old experience tells 
us that the eternal Potomac may be a most impassable boundary line 
of opinions. You have but to make New-England a whirlpool of 
abolitionism, to make the south the precise reverse. The very fact 
tiiat we are in a blaze of commotion, burning for interference, will, by 
a revulsion of feeling, produce an opposite partizanship,. and seal our 
fate, perhaps for centuries. The seers of European despotism have 
yearly pointed to our slaves, and prophesied for us approaching dis- 
solution — and you are hastening its verification. The tottering despot 
has gazed upon our fearful example, with terror for his fate, and 
nightly sent up his prayers for our ruin — and you are becoming the 
ioiinister of their fulfilment. 

I am far from asserting that any of our fellow citizens are friends to 
a dissolution of our union ; yet am I mistaken if there are not some, 
who would contemplate even that as an admissible means for efiecting 
what they suppose the most righteous of purposes ; who would con- 
sider any regard to its preservation as a wicked preference of expedi- 
ency to right : misguided men, who would march to slave emancipa- 
tion over the ruins of the demolished constitution! Without asking 
what right there can be in endangering the happiness and liberties of 
the whole for the benefit of one-sixth ; are they so moonstruck as not 
to see that a revolution which ruined the union, would, in all proba^ 



D. D. Wludon'9 Mdr$is on Cohnizaium. 137 

hiWty, plunge in deeper ruin the object of their fond solicitude, the 
slave! While they lost every thing for all else, they would gain n«* 
thing for him. Are their eyes so bewildered, as that through scenes of 
civil strife, through the smoke of battle and of massacre, they can 
descry visions of peace and freedom for the slave ? But I turn from 
the sickening picture : in calm reKance upon the good sense of our 
citizens, the better genius of my country, and the guidance of the God 
of our fathers, I prophesy, such $c*n€s ahtUl never be. 

I turn to a more attractive object — the saving policy of this 80cieCy» 
and the rising monument of its benevolence upon another hemi8pliere» 
— the benefacir^es of two eontinente — the mediatrix between two roccti 
— pointing the path of peace to America^ and regeneration to Afrieeu 
' Say not that I calculate too warmly for Africa.* He has not wisely 
studied the history of his own country, who has not learned how feeble 
beginnings have eventuated the grandest results. Roll back the pic* 
tured scroll of chronicled ages, and reveal to me a glimpse of two 
centuries ago. I see a lonely ship approaching the shore of a forest 
continent, — ^yet hangiag, as it does, in trembling suspense upon the 
tossing wave, — I fear not for its heaven-guided fate ; — ^for its fragile 
deck is freighted with an empire's destinies. Flung by persecution's 
hand upon Plymouth's rock — in spite of the wintry blast, the dense 
forest, the sterile soil, the .savage foe» and the despot's oppression*— 
that pilgrim band of adventurous voyagers have swelled to the mighty 
empire that now sits upon New-England's hills, shadows her coast, 
and hurls her thunders upon the broad Atlantic. And my friends, what 
is proud history for us, is prouder prophecy for Africa. Far less difficul- 
ties has a rising nation upon her peaceful and fertile shores,-— far less 
visionary to appearance are the prospects we hope for her, than the 
realities which history presents for us. Beside, the day has been 
when Africa was the proudest of her sister continents. The diadem of 
nations is no stranger to her sable brow ; — ^her fields and shores are 
the seat of old dominion. The shadows of departed empires, older 
than the birth of history, are hovering round her eternal pyramids \ 

Who would have it recorded of him Ihat he aided not in Africa's 
restoration ? Better be her buried martyr than her living foe. Most 
truly have our opposers published, that no man would like to have it 
recorded upon his tomb stone, * This man advocated the slave trade.* 
Such an epitaph would indeed be a marble execration. But a still 
deeper monumental sarcasm would be, Here lies the inan who out of 
pure love for ike African^ would have prevented the regeneration of 
Africa. 

And who would not claim it as a rich privilege to make a sacrifice 
for her emancipation?. When the world shall have better learned to 
estimate true glory, her benefactors and martyrs will receive tho 
homage long paid to the warrior's deeds. I hear the funeral sigh, waAed 
by the breeze across the Atlantic wave, telling that another — and ano- 
ther — is fallen! There are those among us, whose tecH-s, for the sever- 
ing of the nearest ties, have demanded our sympathies. Hushed is the 
mercy-breathing voice, and cold the generous beating heart ; yet the 
green sod above them is sacred — bedewed with the tears of Ethiopia's 
living sons, and hallowed with the reverence of her coming generations. 
Their names, entwined with her history, shall be the inspiration of 

12* 



138 JKel^M ClmMm PkUoB^ktr. 

future song, and the theme of future story. They oune from a far 
Ifkodi bearing hope to the desfMuring and life to the dying : they were 
heroes who fell in a battle unstained with blood : they wUl repose like 
priceless gems upon Africa's grateful bosom ; — and in the day of eter-> 
nity they will rise from the most glorious of all mausoleums — a con* 
TIN EN T thtir Uvea were sacrificed to redeem. 

If, against all hum$in probability, the enterprise for which they suffered, 
and we toil, be a mistaken one, the noble humanity of its motive will 
fully sanctify the error of its adoption ; — if, in the dispensation of a mys- 
terious providence, it be ultimately prostrated, it shall be sufficient for 
us to have deserved success ; — ^and, wi^h the full hopes of that success, 
in the name of God, and in the name of man, we commend it to your ho- 
liest sympathies, your richest Uberality,and your most devoted exertion. 



THE CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHEE: 

Or, the Connection of Science and Phihsophy with Religion. 

By Thomas Dick. 

The man who can soar high into the regions of philosophy, under- 
standing that word according to its modem acceptation, cannot long 
remain an inRdel. However much some have decried learning and 
science as detrimental to religion, the history of the Church and of the 
world proves, that every revival of true godliness has been accompa- 
nied ^vith a revival of sound learning, of deep research into various 
branches of knowledgCr and by an assiduous cultivation pf the arts 
which adorn life, and add to the comforts of civilized society. Even 
those scientific infidels who have sported with the blessings and mise- 
ries of life, and have laughed at death and judgment while they seemed 
at a distance from them, have borrowed their plumes from the bird of 
paradise : the schools of learning and philosophy at winch they studied 
were founded and nourished by Christian philanthropy. 

Every one will be convinced of ^he tpith of these remarks by look- 
ing over those dark ages of the Church which preceded the reformation, 
and comparing the puerile productions of that sombre period with tj^ose 
of subsequent times. Ever since Luther thrust his sword into the 
heart of popery, and produced those writhings in the Romish Church 
which indicated the anguish she felt under the deep wound which he 
inflicted, the lights of science have been steadily burning brighter and 
brighter, and, we humbly trust, will continue to rise with more and 
more splendor, eyen * to the perfect day.' Deep research^ profound 
knowledge, and accurate investigation, always have led, and must 
always continue to lead, to an acknowledgment of that Great Supreme 
Intelligence which made, upholds, and governs the world. 

We do not, indeed, subscribe to the opinion adopted by some, that 
a study of the works of nature will of itself lead to an accurate know« 



DkV$ ChrUHm PkiloMophmr. IW 



ledge of God's perfections. That He eiists is one thiiigt b«l tvlnl 
His will 19 concerning His ereaturea is anoAer. That the existenee 
of the universe indicates the existence also of an infinilelj wise, 
powerful, and eternal Beingf must, we think, be allowed on all hands. 
The marks of intelligence every where visible throughout the creation 
assure us that the world, with all its appurtenances, must have been 
framed by an intelligence superior to all human intelligences* 

Let us try the strength of this argument. Bring the united strength 
and intelligence of aU^uman beings together, and they cannot produce 
a madune capable of pelrpetual motion* A man indeed may construct 
machines, which, by the aid of the agencies of nature— such as the 
wind or water mill, steam and wind vessels— will move of themselves 
at certain distances, and for ^ length of time ; but the power which 
propels them forward is soon exhausted, and the machines themselves 
soon wear out by contkiua] firictioa, and the impairing influence of the 
atmosphere and other corroding agents. But we behold a world, inert 
of itself, moving around in the most regular order as to time and dis- 
tance, upheld and directed by a power and influence to us invisible ; 
and these motions have been continued fiom the beginning of time, 
and still continue on without variation, unimpaired by time, nnwasted 
by the exhaustion of its own energies, and unwearied by the exertion 
of its powers. Who made this world 1 By what power is it kept in 
perpetual motion t The answer to these questions silences atheism. 
Whoever that Being is. He must be possessed of all those perfections 
which are adequate to the production pf such-a world. And by what* 
ever power this world is upheld and peipetually moved and directed, 
this power must be infinite, for no finite hand is adequate to produce 
such a result. 

So far, we think, natural religion will lead us, and no farther— 
unless, indeed, we may infer the goodneMM of this Being, from the pro* 
vision which is made for ihe support and comfort of his intelligent 
creatures. But, though His munificence is manifestly perceivable 
from the aptitude of the means to supply the wants, and to administer 
to the happiness of all rational and animated existences, yet there are 
a multitude of evils in the world-— evils that cannot, by any human 
means, be either removed or mitigated. Whence these evils 1 Did 
they originate from God ] If He made the world as it now is, then 
they surely did. Are these evils the emanations of His goodness ? 
Nay, surely. Allowing that they proceeded from Him, as an effect 
follows its cause, or as the stream flows from its fountain, it will fol- 
low most inevitably that a principle of evil as well as good exists in 
the Deity ; and hence those heathen philosophers, who attributed to 
their deities all those infamous jpassions and appetites which they saw 
influencing* men, reasoned accurately enough, because they took their 



140 IKek'9 Christian PhUoMphmr. 

data as th^ found them here in this world* where good and evil ar* 
mixed together ; and supposing that the world as it is was the produc- 
tion of the gods, they inferred that these were possessed of the same 
malignant passions which they saw actuated men, and that they 
delighted in afflicting mankind with all those temporal evils, sickness, 
pain, war and famine* pestilence and death, which were so prevalent in 
the world. And allowing them the firm possession of their premises, 
that tile world is as the gods made it* and that all human actions were 
the result of an uncontrollahle fate, their conclusions were legitimate 
and irresistible, being built upon the well-known- and acknowledged 
maxim, * that a cause partakes of the moral likeness of its effects.' 
And as their morality allowed of cunning, artifice, murder, and blood- 
shedding among men, the objects of their idc^atrous worship were in- 
vested, in the imagination of their votaries, with the same propensi- 
ties, and considered no less worthy of their veneration for being 
actuated by the same unhallowed passions. 

What shall we sayt Nature gives us no authentic information 
respecting the origin of these evils, except that they proceeded from 
the same cause which produced the universe. Were we left then to 
her dim light, we should be for ever in the dark respecting the attributes 
of truth, holiness, and goodness, which we now believe inhere in the 
Deity whom we worship. Hence we said that the study of nature 
alone cannot conduct us to a knowledge of His perfections, and espe- 
cially of His goodness, from whence issue those streams of mercy 
with which we are blessed, notwithstanding the many * ills which flesh 
is heir to.' From this admission we derive an irrefutable argument in 
favor of a revelation of 'His will, to make us acquainted with the 
exuberance of His goodness in providing for our wants, in procuring 
a remedy for our evils, and in making known to us the nature and 
measure of our duty. This volume of revelation also leads us to the 
fountain of human misery, the origin of moral evil, whence spring;? 
those numerous natural evils with which mankind have always been 
afflicted. And hence we infer that the world is not now as it was 
when it dropped perfect from the hand of the mighty Architect — that 
man has descended from that high dignity he was originally destined 
to sustain at the head of the creation — that he has departed from his 
primeval purity, innocency, and happiness — and that therefore he is 
degraded, depraved, and shrouded in a mantle of darkness — that his 
understanding is weak, and his whole soul perverse — ^and that from 
all this it follows, that man alone, not his Maker, is responsible for 
the disorders, moral and natural evils, — >tbe latter being a consequence 
of the former, — which pour their full tide over the plains of human 
existence. Hence the Deity, whom we adore, appears ^ full orb'd, 
with His whole round of rays complete,' high above all those malig- 



Dkk^M ChriHian PhiUmphm-. 141 

nant psssions which characterize, debase^ and influence human beings. 
But for this conclusion, so honorable to the Creator of the universe, 
we are indebted to the light poured upon our dark world by the lamp 
of revelation. 

This is the spiritual sun which the Creator hath suspended in the 
celestial firmament, for die purpose of giving light and heat to the 
moral world. When reason is enlightened by a ray from this brigfal 
luminary, it can perceive its adorable Author, trace out the perfections 
of His character, and accurately deduce all those truths and duties 
which guide the understanding and regulate the conduct of mankind ; 
and the more expanded the mind becomes by science, by study, and 
reflection, the more clearly does it perceive the objects which are 
thus revealed, and the more accurately does it draw its conclusions 
from those truths thus perspicuously made known. 

The professed object of the work before us is to show the union 
between religion and science, and the manner in which the one assists 
the other ; and that, by shedding their mutual light on the mind of man, 
they infallibly conduct him to a knowledge of the Great Supreme, and 
finally to glory and immortality. 

In bis introduction, Mr. Dick glances at the sad condition of those 
nations who have been destitute of the lights of revelation, in the fol- 
lowing manner : — 

* On the subject of religion, mankind have, in all ages, been prone 
to run into, extremes. While .some have been disposed to attach too 
much importance to the mere exertions of the human intellect,* and to 
imagine that man,>by the light of unassisted reason, is able to explore 
the path to true wisdon^and happiness, — the greater part of religionists, 
on the other hand, have been disposed to treat scientific knowledge, 
in its relation to religion, with a degree of indifierence bordering upon 
contempt Both these dispositions are equally foolish and prepos* 
terous. For he who exalts human reason, as the only sure guide to 
wisdom and felicity, forgets that man, in his present state, is a cie- 
praved intelligence, and, consequently, liable to err ; and fliat all those 
who have been left solely to its dictates have uniformly failed in attain- 
ing these desirable objects. During a period of more than 5,800 
years, the greater pcurt of the human race have been left solely to the 
guidance of fbeir rational- powers, in order to grope their way to the 
temple of knowledge, and the portals of immortality ; but what has 
been the result of dU their anxious researches t Instead of acquiring 
correct notions of flie Great Author of their existence, and of the 
nature of that homage which is due to his perfections, **they have 
become vain in their imaginaticms, and their foolish hearts have been 
darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they have become fools ; 
and have changed the glory of the ino6rruptibie God into an image 
made like to corruptible man, and to four-footed beasts, and creepii^ 
things." Instead of acquiring ccnrect views of the principles of moral 
action, and conducting themselves acceding to the eternal rules of 



142 Dkk'9 ChriBiian PAtloMpW. 

rectitude« they have displayed the operation of the most diabolical 
passions, indulged in continual warfare, and desolated the earth with 
rapine and horrid carnage ; so that the history of the world presents to 
our view little more than a series of revolting details of the depravity 
of our species, and of the wrongs which one tribe of human beings has 
wilfully inflicted upon another. 

This has been the case not^only among a few uncultivated hordes 
on the coasts of Africa, in the plains of Tartary, and the wild$ of 
America, but even among those nations which stood highest in the 
ranks of civilization and of science. The ancient Greeks and Ro- 
mans, who boasted of their attainments in philosophy, and their pro- 
gress in the arts, entertained the most foolish, contradictory, and 
unworthy notions of the object of Divine worship, of the requirements 
of religion, and of the eternal destiny of man. They adored a host of 
divinities characterized by impiety, fraud, injustice, falsehood, lewd« 
ness, treachery, revenge, murder, and every other vice which can 
debase the human mind, instead of offering a tribute of rational ho- 
mage to that Supreme Intelligence who made, and who governs the 
universe. Even their priests and philosophers indulged in the most 
degrading and abominable practices, and entertained the most irra- 
tional notions in regard to the origin of the universe, and the moral 
government of the world. Modt of them denied a future state of retri* 
bution, and all of them had their doubts respecting the reality of an 
Immortal existence ; and as to the doctrine of a resurrection from the 
dead, they never dreamed of such an event, apd scouted the idea 
when proposed to them as the climax of absurdity. The glory to 
which their princes apd generals aspired was to spread death and de- 
struction among their fellow men — ^to carry ftre and sword, terror and 
dismay, and all the engines of destructioh Uirough surrounding nations 
^ — ^to fiU their fields with heaps of slain — ^to plunder the survivors of 
every earthly comfort, and to dirag eaptive kings at their chariot wheels 
— ^that they might enjoy the- splendor and the honors of a triumph. 
What has been now stated with regard to the most enlightened nations 
of antiquity will equally apply to the present inhabitants of China, of 
Hindostan, of the Japanese islands, of the Birman empire, and of every 
other civilized natien on which the light of .revelation has never shone 
-*-with this additional consideration. That they have enjoyed an addi- 
tional period of 1800 years for making farther investigations ; and are, 
at this moment, as far from the object of their pursuit as when they 
first commenced their researches ; and not only so, but some of these 
nations, in modern times, have mingled with their abominable super- 
stitions and idolatries many absurdities and horrid cruelties which 
were altogether unknown among the Greek and Roman population. 

Such are the melancholy results to which men have been led, when 
lefl to the guidance of unassisted reason, in the most interesting and 
important of all investigations. ' They have wandered in the mazes of 
error and delusion ; and their researches, instead of directing and 
expanding our religious views, have tended only to bewilder the human 
mind, and to throw a deeper shade of intellectual gloom over our 
apostate world. After a period of six thousand years has been spent 
in anxious inquiries after the path to true knowledge and happiness, 
ignorance, superstition, idolatry, vice, and misery still continue to sway 



lHek'$ ChriUian PhUoiopher. 143 

their sceptre over the great majority of the human race ; and^ if we 
be allowed to reason from the past to the future, we may rest assured, 
that while mankind are destitute of a Guide superior to the glimmer- 
ings of depraved reason, they would be no nearer the object of their 
pursuit, afler the lapse of sixty thou$and ytars, than at the present 
moment. It is only in connection with the discoveries of revelation 
that we can e)cpect that the efforts of human reason and activity will 
be successful in abolishing the reign of ignorance and degrading super- 
stition — in illuminating the benighted tribes of the pagan world — and 
in causing ^^ righteousness, and order, and jpeace, to spring forth before 
all the nations." Though the Christian religion has never yet been 
fully understood and recognized, in all its aspects and bearings, nor its 
requirements been cordially complied with, by the great body of those 
who profess to believe in its Divine origin, yet it is only in those 
nations who have acknowledged its authority, and, in some measure, 
submitted to its dictates, that any thing approximating to just concep- 
tions of the Supreme Intelligence, and of his moral government, is 
found to prevail. 

But, on the other hand, though the light of nature is of itself a 
feeble and insufficient guide to direct us in our views of the Supreme 
Intelligence, and of our eternal destination, yet it is a most dangerous 
and delusive error to imagine that reason, and the study of the material 
world, ought to be discarded from the science of religion. The man 
who would discard the efforts of the human intellect, and the science 
of nature from religion, forgets that He who is the Afithor of human 
redemption, is also the Creator and Grovernor of the whole system of 
the material universe— that it is one end of that moral renovation which 
the Gospel effects, to qualify us for contemplating aright the displays 
of Divine perfection which the works of creation exhibit— that the 
visible works of God are the principal medium by which he displays 
the attributes of his nature to intelligent beings — that the study and 
contemplation of these works employ the faculties of intelligences of a 
superior <*rder (Rev. iv, 11 ; xv, 3, &c,) — ^that man, had he remained 
in primeval innocence, would have been chiefly employed in such con- 
templations — that it is one main design of Divine revelation to illus- 
trate the operations of Providence, and the agency of God in the 
formation and preservation of all things — and that the Scriptures are 
full of sublime descriptions of the visible creation, and of interesting 
references to the various objects which adorn the scenery of nature. 
Without the cultivation of our reasoning powers, and an investigation 
of the laws and economy of nature, we could not appreciate many of 
the excellent characters, the interesting aspects, and the* sublime refe- 
rences of revealed religion : we should lose the full evidence of those 
arguments by whichthe existence of God and his attributes of wis- 
dom and omnipotence are most powerfully demonstrated : we should 
remain destitute of those sublime conceptions of the perfections and 
agency of Jehovah which the grandeur and immensity of his works 
are calculated to inspire : w^ should never perceive, in its full force, 
the evidence of those proofs on which the Divine authority of revela- 
tion is founded : we could not give a rational interpretation of the 
spirit and meaning of many parts of the sacred oracles ; nor could we 
comply with those positive commands of God which enjoin us to con- 



144 JOieV$ ChrUtum PhOoscjAtr. 

template the wonder of bis power, to ** meditate on all his woriur, and 
to talk of all his doings." ' . 

It would be matter of rejoicing could we say, in truth, that all 
Christian nations had escaped from those sanguinary conflicts which 
have so fi^quently and so distressingly deluged the earth with blood. 
These things, however, are not justly chargeable up6n Christianity. 
In spite of its mild precepts and bold remonstrances, the natural pro- 
pensities of mankind have led them, in every age, among all nations, 
and under every form of religion, to trespass upon 'each other's rights, 
to desolate the earth with blood and carnage, and to riot upon the 
spoils unjustly taken from each other as the reward of their cruel valor. 
But such deeds of darkness are no more to be charged upon the 
Christian religion or upon the book of revelation, than the private 
murders, thefts, and robberies are to be attributed to those human 
laws which forbid them. Let Christianity have its legitimate effects 
upon the human heart, and all those evils, which have been, and are 
stiU so feelingly deprecated by philanthropists, shall be banished from 
the earth — peace and good will, and all the fruits of righteousness, 
shall pervade the human family. 

In the first chapter Mr. Dick shows the union subsisting between 
natural and regaled religion, and that'^e necessity of a revelation 
to make known to man his duty and destiny, originates in his apos* 
tacy. 

* The Christian revelation ought not to be considered as supersed- 
ing -the religion of nature, but as carrying it forward to perfection. 
It introduces the Deity to us under new relations, corresponding to 
the degraded state into which we have fallen. It is superadded to our 
natural relations to God, and takes it for granted that the^.a natural 
relations must for ever subsist. It is true, indeed, that the essential 
attributes of God, and the principles of natural religion, cannot be fully 
discovered without the light of revelation, as appears from the past 
experience of mankind in every generation; but it is equally true, 
that, when discovered by the aid of this celestial light, they are of the 
utmost importance in the Christian system, and are as essentially con- 
nected with it as the foundation of a building is with the superstruc. 
ture. Many professed Christians, however, seem to think, and to act, 
as if the Christian revelation had annulled the natural relations which 
subsist between man and the Deity; and hence the zealous outcry 
against every discussion from the pulpit that has not a direct relation 
to what are termed the doctrines of grace. But nothing, surely, can 
be more absurd than to carry out such a principle to all its legitimate 
consequences. Can God ever cease to be omnipotent, or can man 
ever cease to be dependent for existence on his infinite power ? Can 
the Divine Being ever cease to be omnipresent and omniscient, or 
can man ever cease to be the object of his knowledge and superin- 
tendence ? Can infinite wisdom ever be detached from the Almighty* 
or can man ever be in a situation where he will not experience the 



IHekU CkriMimn PhUoi0fk4r. 145 

effects of h» wise arrangements 1 Can goodness ever fail of being 
an attribute of Jehovab, or can any sentient or intelligent beings exist 
that do not experience the effects of His bounty t In short, can the 
relation of creature and of Creator ever cease between the human race, 
in whatever moral or physical situation they may be placed, and that 
Almighty Being, ** who giveth to. ail life, and breath, and all ttiingst" 
If none of these things can possibly happen, then the relations to which 
we refer must be eternal and unchangeable, and must form the basis 
of all the other relations in which we can possibly stand to the Divine 
Being, either as apostate or aa redeemed creatures ; and therefore they 
ought to be exhibited as subjects for our frequent and serious contem- 
plation, as religious and moral agents. But, unless we make such 
topics a distinct subject of attention, and endeavor to acquire a clear 
and comprehensive conception of our natural relations to God, we can 
never form a clear conception of those new and interesting relations 
into which we have been brought by the mediation of Jesus Christ 

If man had continued in his primitive state of integrity, he would 
have been for ever exercised in tracing the power, the beneficence, 
and other attributes of Deity, in the visible creation alone. Now that 
his fallen state has rendered additional revelations necessary, in order 
to secure his happiness, is he completely to throw aside those contem- 
plations and exercises which constituted his chief employment, while 
he remained a pure moral intelligence ? Surely not. One great end 
of his moral renovation by means of the Gospel, must be to enable him 
to resume his primitipe exercises^ and to qualify him for more enlarged 
views and contemplations of a similar nature, in that future world, 
where the physical and moral impediments which now obstruct his pro- 
gress will be completely removed. 

It af^ars highly unreasonable, and indicates a selfish disposition of 
mind, to magnify one class of the Divine attributes at the expense of 
another ; to extol, for example, the mercy of God, and neglect to cele- 
brate his power and wisdom— those glorious perfections, the display 
of which, at the formation of our globe, excited the rapture and admi- 
ration of angels, and of innocent man* All the attributes of God are 
cftto/, because all of them are infinite ; and, therefore, to talk of dar^ 
Ung attributes in the Divine nature, as some have done, is inconsistent 
wi& reason, unwarranted by Scripture, and tends to exhibit a distorted 
view of the Divine character. The Divine mercy ought to be cele- 
brated wiUi rapture by every individual of our fallen race : but with no 
less rapture should we extol the Divine o^^^m)otence ; for the designs 
of mercy cannot be accomplished withouffRe intervention of infinite 
power. All that we hope for, in consequenee of the promises of God, 
and of the redemption accomplished by Jesus Christ, must be founded 
on the concepti<Hi we form of the operations of omnipotence. An 
example or two may not be unnecessary for illustrating this position. 

We are warranted by the sacred (trades to entertain the hope, that 
these mortal bodies of ours, afler they have mouldered in the dust, 
been dissolved into their primary elementary parts, and become the 
prey of devouring reptiles, during a lapse of generations or of centu- 
ries, shall spring forth from the tomb to new life and beauty, and be ' 
arrayed in more glorious forms than they now wear ; yea, that all the 
inhabitants of our globe, from Adam to the end of time, though the 

Vol. Yh— April, 1835. 13 



146 JMek^a Chriatian 

bodies of thousands of them have been devoured by cannibals, have 
become the food of fishes and of beasts of prey, and have been burnt 
to cinders, and their ashes scattered by the winds, over the different 
regions of sea and land, shall be reanimated by. the voice of the Son 
of God, and shall appear, each in his proper person and identical body, 
before God, the Judge of all. ' Now, the firmness of our hope of so 
astonishing an event, which seems to contradict all experience, and 
appears involved in such a mass of difficulties and apparent contradic- 
tions, must be in proportion to the sentiments we entertain of the 
Divine intelligence, wisdom, and omnipotence. And where are we to 
find the most striking visible displays of these ^rfections, except in 
the actual operations of the Creator, within the range of our view in 
the material world ] 

Again : we are informed in the same Divine records, that, at some 
future period, the earth on which we now dwell shall be wrapt up in 
devouring flames, and its present form and constitution for ever de- 
stroyed ; and its redeemed inhabitants, after being released from the 
grave, shall be transported to a more glorious region ; and that '* new 
heavens and a new earth shall appear, wherein dwelleth righteousness." 
The Divine mercy having given to the faithful the promise of these 
astonishing revolutions, and most magnificent events, our hopes of 
their being fully realized must rest on the infinite wisdom and omnipo- 
tence of Jehovah ; and, consequently, if our views of these perfections 
be limited and obscure, our hope in relation to our future destiny will 
be proportionably feeble and languid, and will scarcely perform its 
office ^* as an anchor to the soul boUi sure and steadfast." It is not 
merely by telling a person that God is all-wise and all-powerfiil, that 
a full conviction of the accomplishment of such grand events will be 
produced. He must be made to see with his own eyes what the 
Almighty has already done^ and what he is now doing in all the regions 
of universal nature which lie open to our inspection ; and this cannot 
be effected without directing his contemplations to those displays of 
intelligence and power which are exhibited in the structure, the econo- 
my, and the revolutions of the material world. 

If the propriety of these sentiments be admitted, it will follow that 
the more we are accustomed to contemplate the wonders of Divine 
intelligence and power, in the objects with which we are surrounded, 
the more deeply shall we be impressed with a conviction, and a confi- 
dent hope, that all the purposes of Divine mercy will ultimately be 
accomplished in our etemal felicity. It will also follow, that, in pro- 
portion as the mind acquires a clear, and extensive, and a reverential 
view of the essential attributes of the Deity, and of those truths in con- 
nection with them, which are objects of contemplation common to all 
holy beings, in a similar proportion will it be impressed, and its atten- 
tion arrested, by every other Divine subject connected with them. 
And it is doubtless owing to the want of such clear and impressive 
conceptions of the essential character of Jehovah, and of the fu^t 
truths of religion, that the bulk of mankind are so little impressed and 
influenced by the leading doctrines and duties connected with Uie plan 
of the Gospel salvation, and that they entertain so many vague and 
untenable notions respecting the character and the objects of a super- 
intending Providence. How oftep, for example, have we witnessed 



J)ick'§ OmiUm PJUbfopJbr. 147 

expreflsioiis of the fooliflh and limited DOtions which are frequently 
entertained respecting the operaticms of Omnipotence 1 When it ha!s 
been asserted that the earth, with all its load of continents and oceans, 
is in rapid motion through the voids of space— >that the sun is ten hun« 
dred thousand times larger than the terraqueous globe*-and that mil- 
lions of such globes are dispersed throughout the immensity of nature 
— somCf who have viewed themselves as enlightened Christians, have 
exclaimed at the impossibility of such facts as if they were beyond the 
limits of Divine power, and as if such representations were intended 
to turn away the mind from Crod and religion ; while, at the sam« 
time, they have yielded a firm assent to all the vulgar notions respect* 
ing omens, apparitions, and hobgoblins, and to the supposed extraor- 
dinary powers of the professors of divination and witchcraft. How can 
such persons assent, with intelligence and rational conviction, to the 
dictates of revelation respecting tho energies of Omnipotence which will 
be exerted at ^* the consummation of all things," and in those arrange- 
ments which are to succeed the dissolution of our sublunary system T 
A firm belief in the almighty power and unsearchable wisdom of God, 
as displayed in the constitution and movements of the material world, * 
is of the utmost importance to confirm our faith and enliven our hopes 
of such grand and interesting events. % 

Notwithstanding the considerations now stated, which plainly evince 
the connection of the natural perfections of God with the objects of 
the Christian revelation, it-appears somewhat strange that when certain 
religious instructors happen^ to come in contact with this topic, they 
seem as if they were beginning to tread upon forbidden ground ; and, 
as if it were unsuitable to their office as Christian teachers, to bring 
forward the stupendous works of the Almighty to illustrate His nature 
and attributes. Instead of expatiating on the numerous sources of 
illustration, of which the subject admits, till the minds of their hearers 
are thoroughly afiected with this view of the essential glory of Jehovah, 
they despatch the subject with two or three vague propositions, which, 
though logicfldly true, make no impression upon the heart ; as if they 
believed that such contemplations were suited only to carnal men and 
mere philosophers ; and as ifHhey were afraid lest the sanctity of the 
pnlpit should be polluted by particular descriptions of those operations 
of the Deity which are perceived through the medium of the corporeal 
senses. • We do not mean to insinuate, that the essential attributes of 
God, and the illustrations of them derived from the material world, 
should form the sole or the chief topics of discussion in the business 
of religious instruction : but, if the Scriptures frequently direct our 
attention to these subjects-^if they lie at the foundation of all accurate 
and extensive views of the Christian revelation — ^if they be the chief 
subjects of contemplBtion to angels, and all other pure intelligences, in 
every region of the universe — and if they have a tendency to expand 
the minds of professed Christians, 'to correct their vague and erroneous 
conceptions, and to promote their conformity to the moral character of 
God — we cannot find out the shadow of a reason why such topics 
should be almost, if not altogether, overlooked, in the writings and the 
discourses of those who profess to instruct mankind in the knowledge 
of God, and the duties of His worship* 

We are informed by our Saviour Himself that " this is life eternal, to 



148 Dick's CkriiitM PkUosophtr. 

know thee the living and true God," as well as ^* Jesus Christ whom 
He hath sent" The knowledge of God, in the sense 'here intended, 
must include in it the knowledge of the natural and essential attribotes 
of the Deity, or those properties of His nature by which He is distin- 
guished from all ** the idols of the nations." Such are His self exist- 
ence, His all-perfect knowledge. His omnipresence. His infinite wisdom. 
His boundless goodness, and almighty power — attributes, which, as we 
have just now seen, lie at the foundation of all the other characters and 
relations of Deity revealed in the Scriptures. The acquisition of just 
and comprehensive conceptions of these perfections must therefore lie 
at the foundation of all profound veneration of the Divine Being, and 
of all that is valuable in religion. Destitute of such conceptions, we 
can neither feel that habitual humility., and that reverence of the majesty 
of Jehovah nvhich His essential glory is calculated to inspire, nor pay 
Him that tribute of adoration and gratitude which is due to His naipe^ 
Devoid of such views, we cannot exercise that cordial acquiescence in 
the plan of His redemption, in the arrangements of His providence, and 
in the requirements of His law, which the Scriptures enjoin. Yet, how 
often do we find persons who pretend to speculate about the mysteries 
of the Gospel, displaying, by their flippancy of speech respecting the 
eternal counsels of the Majesty of heaven — by their dogmatical asser- 
tions respecting the Divine character, and the dispensations of provi- 
dence — and by their pertinacious opinions respecting the laws by 
which God must regulate His own actions — that they have never felt 
impressive emotions of the grandeur of that Being, whose «^ operations 
are unsearchable, and His ways past finding out ?" Though they do 
not call in question His immensity and power. His wisdom and good- 
ness, as so many abstract prpperties of His nature ; yet the unbecom- 
ing familiarity with which they approach this august Being, and talk 
about Him, shows that they have never associated in their minds the 
stupendous displays which have been given of these perfections in the 
works of His hands ; and that their religion (if it may be so called) 
CMisists merely in a farrago of abstract opinions, or in an empty 
natne. 

If, then, it be admitted, that it is essentially requisite, as the founda- 
tion of religion, to have the mind deeply impressed with a clear and 
comprehensive view of the natural perfections of the Deity, it will fol- 
low that the ministers of rehgion, and all oihers whose province it is 
to communicate religious instruction, ought frequently to dwell With 
particularity on those proofs and illustrations whkh tend to convev the 
most definite and impressive conceptions of the glory of that fieing 
whom we profess to adore. But from what sources are such illustra- 
tions to be derived ? Is it from abstract reasonings and metaphysical 
distinctions and definitions, or from a survey of* those objects and 
movements which lie open to the inspection of every observer ? There 
can be ndr difficulty in coming to a decision on this point. We might 
affirm with the schoolmen, that *•*• God is a Being whose centre is 
every where, and His circumference no where ;" that *' He compre- 
hends infinite duration in ev^ry moment," and that " infinite space may 
be considered as the senaorium of the Godhead ;" but such fanciful 
illustrations, when strictly analyzed, will be found to consist merely of 
worda without idtas. We might also affirm with truth, that God is a 



!S 
I- 
t- 
It 

e 



DiM9 CkrUHm PkUoiopkmr. 14f 

n Being of infmite perfectiont glory, and blesaddnesA— that He is witb- 

jj, out all bounds or limits, either actual or possible— 4hat He is possessed 

of power sufficient to perform all things which do not imply a contrao 
diction — that He is independent and self sufficient— *that His wisdom 
is unerring* and tibat He infinitely exceeds all other beings. But 
thesey and other expressions of a similar kind, are mer€ ttehmeal t§rm$ 
which convejp- no adequate, nor even tolerable notion of what they 
^ import Beings, c<Mistituted-like man, whose rational spirits are con* 

j^ . nected witti an organical structure, and who derive all their knowledge 
g * through the medium of corporeal organs, can derive their clearest and 
j most afiecting notions of the Divinity chiefly through the same medium* 

namely, by contemf^ating the effeeta of His perfections as di^layed 
through the ample range of the visible creation. And to this source 
of illustration the inspired writers uniformly direct our views : — «^ Lift 
up your eyes on high, and behold ! who hath created these orbs? who 
bringeth fbrth their host by number, and calleth them all by their 
names ? The everlasting God, the Lord, by the greatness of His 
might, for thai He is strong in power." *' He hath made the earth by 
His power; He hath established the world by His wisdom ; He hath 
stretched out the heavens by His understanding." These writers do 
not perplex our minds by a multitude of technical terms and subtle 
reasonings ; but lead us directly to the source whence our most ample 
conceptions of Deity are to be derived, that, from a steady and enlight- 
ened contemplation of the efi*ects, we may learn the greatness of the 
Cause ; and their example in this respect ought doubdess to be a pat* 
* tern for every religious instructor.' 

The following are the instances which our author adduces to illus- 
trate the omnipotence of God :— 

1 The earth is a globe whose diameter is nearly 8,000 miles, and its 
circumference about 25,000, and consequently its surface contains 
nearly two hundred millions of square miles — a magnitude too great 
for the mind to take in at one conception. In order to form a tolerable 
conception of the whole, we must endeavor to take a leisurely survey 
of its different parts. Were we to take our station on the top of a 
mountain of a moderate size, and survey the surrounding landscape, 
we should perceive an extent of view stretching 40 miles in every 
direction, forming a circle 80 miles in diameter, and 250 in circum- 
ference, and comprehending an area of 5,000 squ|ire miles. In such 
a situation the terrestrial scene around and beneath us, consisting of 
hills and plains, towns and villages, rivers and lakes, would form one 
of the largest objects which the eye, and even the imagination, can 
steadily grasp at one time. But such an object, grand and extensive 
as it is« forms no more than the forty ilumsandlh part of the terra- 
queous globe ; so that before we can acquire an adequate conception 
of the magnitude of our own worid, we must conceive 40,000 land- 
scapes of a similar extent to pass in review before us : and were a 
scene, of the magnitude now stated, to pass before us every hour ^1 
all the diversified scenery of the earth were brought under our view, 
and were 12 hours a-day allotted for the observation; it would require 
9 years and 48 days before the whole surface of the globe could be 

13* 



150 Diek*$ ChrUtian PhUosapker. 

contemplated, even in this general and rapid manner. iBut, such a 
variety of successive landscapes passing before the eye, even although 
it were possible to be realized, would convey only a very vague and 
imperfect conception of the scenery of our world ; for objects at the 
distance^ of 40 miles cannot be distinctly perceived : the only view 
which would be satisfactory would be that which is comprehended 
within the range of three or four miles from the spectator. 

Again : I have already stated, that the surface of the earth contains 
nearly 200,000,000 of square miles. Now, were a person to set out 
on a minute survey' of the terraqueous globe, and to travel till he 
passed along every square mile on its surface, and to continue his 
route without intermission, at the rate of 30 miles every day, it would 
require 18,264 years before he could finish his tour, and complete the 
survey of " this huge rotundity on which we tread :" so that, had he 
commenced his excursion on the day in which Adam was created, and 
continued it to the present hour, he would not have accomplished one 
third part of this vast tour. 

In estimating the size an<) extent of the earth, we ought also to take 
into consideration the vast variety of objects with which it is diversi- 
fied, and the numerous animated beings with which it is stored ; — the 
great divisions of land and water, the continents, seas, and islands, 
into which it is distributed ; the lofly ranges of mountains which rear 
their heads to the clouds ; the unfathomed abysses of the ocean ; its 
vast subterraneous caverns and burning mountains ; and the lakes, 
rivers, and stately forests with which it is so magnificently adorned ; 
the many millions of animals, of every size and form, from the ele- 
phant to the mite, which traverse its surface ; the numerous tribes of 
fishes, from the enormous whale to the diminutive shrimp, which 
*'play" in the mighty ocean; the serial tribes which sport in the 
regions above us, and the vast mass of the surrounding atmosphere, 
which encloses the earth and all its inhabitants as ^^' with a swaddling 
band.'' The immense variety of beings with which our terrestrial 
habitation is furnished conspires, with every other consideration, to 
exalt our conceptions to that power, by which our globe, and all that 
it contains, were brought into existence. 

The preceding illustrations, however, exhibit the vast extent of the 
earth considered only as a mere superficies. But we know that the 
earth is a solid globe, whose specific gravity is nearly five times denser 
than water, or about twice as dense as the mass of earth and rocks 
which compose its surface. Though we cannot dig into its bowels 
beyond a mile in perpendicular depth to explore its hidden wonders, 
yet we may easily conceive what a vast and indescribable mass of 
matter must be contained between the two opposite portions of its 
external circumference, reaching 8000 miles in every direction. The 
solid contents of this ponderous ball is no less than 263,858,149,1 2p 
cubical miles — a mass of material substance of which we can form but 
a very faint and imperfect conception — in ][>roportion to which all the 
lofty mountains which rise above its surface are less than a few grains 
of sand, when compared with the largest artificial globe. Were the 
earth a hollow sphere, surrounded merely with an external shell of 
earth and water ten miles thick, its internal cavity would be sufilicient 
to contain a quantity of materials one hundred and thirty^ihree timeai 



xlidr< CnrttiMNi PkUammhmr. 151 



greater than the whole mass of continents, islands, and oceans, on its 
surface, and the foundations on which they are supported. We have 
the strongest reasons, however, to conclude, that the earth, in its 
general structure, is one solid mass, from the surface to the centre, 
excepting, perhaps, a few caverns scattered here and there, amidst its. 
subterraneous recesses : and that its density gradually increases from 
its surface to its central regions. What an enormous mass of male* 
rials, then, is comprehended within the limits of that globe on which 
we tread ! The mind labors, as it Werot to comprehend the mighty 
idea ; and after all its exertion* feels itself unable to take in such an 
astonishing magnitude at one comprehensive grasp. How great must 
be the power of that Being who commanded it to spring from nothing 
into existence, who ** measureth the ocean in the hollow of His hand, 
who weigheth the mountains in scales, and hangeth the earth upon 
nothing !" 

It is essentially requisite, before proceeding to the survey of objects 
and magnitudes of a superior order, that we should Mideavor, by such 
a train of thought as the preceding, to form some tolerable and clear 
conception of the bulk oi the globe we inhabit ; for it is the only body 
we can use as a standard of comparison to guide the mind in its 
conceptions, when it roams abroad to other regions of material exist- 
ence. And from what has been now stated, it appears that we have 
no €tdequate conception of a magnitude of so vast an extent; or, 
at least, that the mind cannot, in any one instant, form, to itself a 
distinct and comprehensive idea of it, in any measure correspondii^ 
to the reality. 

Hitherto, then, we have fixed only on a determinate magnitude— on 
a scale of a few inches, as it were, in order to assist us in our mea- 
surement and conception of magnitudes still more august and astonish* 
ing. When we contemplate by the light of science those magnificent 
globes which float around us ^i the concave of the sky, the earth, with 
all its sublime scenery, stupendous as it is, dwindles into an inconsi* 
• derable ball. If we pass from our globe to some of the other bodies 
of the planetary system, we shall find that ohe of these stupendous 
orbs is more than 900 times the size of our world, and encircled with 
a ring 200,000 miles in diameter, which would neariy reach from the 
earth to the moon, and would enclose within its vast circumference 
several hundreds of worlds as large as' ours. Another of these plane- 
tary bodies, which appears to the vulgar eye only as a brilliant speck 
on the vault of heaven, is found to be of such a size, that it would 
require 1,400 globes of the bulk of the earth to form one equal to it in 
dimensions. The whole of the bodies which compose the solar system 
(without taking the sun and the comets into account) contains a mass 
of matter 2,500 times greater than that of the earth. The sun himself 
is 520 times larger than all the planetary globes taken toget^ier ; and 
one million, three hundred thousand times larger than the terraqueous 
globe. This is one of the most glorious and magnificent visible 
objects which either the eye or the imagination can contemplate; 
especially when we consider what perpetual, and incomprehensible, 
and powerful infkience he exerts, what warmtii, and beauty, and acti- 
vity, he difiuses, not only on tl\e globe we inhabit, but over the more 
extensive regions of surrounding wcnrlds. His energy extends to the 



152 DieV$ Chriiiitm PMIoMpJUr. 

utmost limits of the planetary s78tem"*-4o the planet Herschel, whidi 
revolves at the distance of 1,800 millions of miles from his surface^ 
and there he dispenses light, and 'color, and comfort, to all the beings 
ccmnected with that far-distant orb, and to all the moons which roll 
around it* 

H'ore the imagination begins to be overpowered and bewildered in 
its conceptions of magnitude, when it has advanced scarcely a single 
step in its excursions through the material world : for it is highly pro- 
bable that all the matter contained within the limits of the solar system^ 
incomprehensible as its magnitude appears, bean a smaller proportion 
to the whole mass of the material universe than a single grain of sand 
to all the particles of matter contained in the body of the sun and his 
attending planets. 

If we extend our views from the solar system to the starry heavens, 
we have to penetrate, in our imagination, a space which the swiftest 
ball that was ever projected, though in perpetual motion, would not 
traverse in ten hundred thousand years. In those trackless regions 
of immensity, we, behold an assemblage of resplendent globes, similar 
to the sun in size, and in glory, and, doubtless, accompanied with k 
retinue of worlds, revolving, like our own, around their attractive influ* 
ence. The immense distance at which the nearest star0 are knewn 
to be placed, proves ^at they are bodies of a prodigious size, not infe- 
rior to our sun, and that they shine, not by reflected rays, but by their 
own native light. But bodies encircled with such refulgent splendor 
would be of little use in the economy of Jehovah's empire, unless 
surrounding worlds were cheered by their benign influence, and enlight* 
ened by their beams. Eveiy star is, therefore, with good reason con- 
cluded to be a sun, no less spacious than ours, surrounded by a host 
of planetary globes, which revolve around it as a centre, and derive 
from it light, and heat, and comfort. Nearly a thousand oif these lumi- 
naries may be seen in a clear winter night by the naked eye ; so that 
a mass of matter equal to a thousand solar systems, or to thirteen hun^ 
dred and tw€fHy miUions of globes of ike me of the earthy may be 
perceived, by every common observer, in the canopy of heaven. But 
all the celestial orbs which are perceived by the unassisted sight do 
not form the eighty thousandth part of those which may be descried by 
the help of optical instruments. The telescope has enabled us to 
descry, in certain spaces of the heavens, thousands of istars where the 
naked eye could scarcely discern twenty. The late celebrated astro- 
nomer, Dr. Herschel, has informed us, lliat, in the most crowded parts 
of the milky-way, when exploring that region with his best glasses, he 
has had fields of view which contained no less than 588 stars, and 
these were .continued for many minutes ; so that ** in one quarter of 
an hour's time there passed no less than one hundred and sixteen 
thousand stars through the field of view of his telescope." 

It h^ been computed, that neariy one hundred mllions of stars 
might be perceived by the most perfect instruments, were all the 
regions of the sky thoroughly explored. And yet, all this vast assem- 
blage of suns and worlds, when compared with what lies beyond the 
utmost boundaries of human vi«on, in the immeasurable spaces of 
creation, may be no more than as the smallest particle of vapor to the 
immense ocean. Immeasurable regions of space lie beyond the utmost 



limits of mortal view, into which even imagination itself can acarceij 
penetrate, and which are, douhtless, replenished with die operations of 
Divine wisdom and omnipotence. For, it cannot be sopposedy that a 
being so diminutive as man, whose stature scarcely exceeds six feet—* 
who vanishes from the sight at the distance of a league— whose whole 
habitation is invisible from the nearest star — whose powers of vision 
are so imperfect, and whose mental faculties are so limited — ^it cannot 
be supposed that man, who ^' dwells in tabernacles of clay, who is 
crushed before the moth," and chained down, by the force of gravita- 
tion, to the surface of a small planet — should be able to descry the 
utmost boundaries' of the empire of Him who fills immensity, and 
dwells in ** light unapproachable." That portion of his dominions, 
however, which lies within tiie range of our view, presents such a 
scene of magnificence and grandeur, as must fill the mind of every 
reflecting person with astonishment and reverence, and constrain him 
to exclaim, '^ Grreat is our Lord, and of great power. His underatanding 
is infiqite." J^ When I consider the heavens, the work of thy fingers, 
the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained — what is man that 
thou art mindful of him !" ^^ I have heard of thee by hearing of the 
ear :" I have hstened to subtle disquisitions on thy duracter and per- 
fections, and have been but little affected, ^ but now mine eye seeik 
thee ; wherefore I humble myself, and repent in dust and ashes." 

In order to feel the full force of the impression made by such con* 
templations, the mind must pause at every step in its excunioos 
through the boundless regions of material existence ; for it is not by a 
mere attention to the figures and numbers by which the magnitudes of 
die great bodies of the universe are expressed that we arrive at the 
most distinct and ample conceptions of objects so grand and over- 
whelming. The mind, in its intellectual range, must dwell on eveiy 
individual sc^ie it contemplates, and on the various objects of which 
it is composed. It must add scene to scene, magnitude to magnitude, 
and compare smaller objects with greater — a range of mountains with 
the whole earUi, the earth with the planet Jupiter, Jupiter widi the sun« 
the sun with a thousand stars, a thousand stars with eighty millions, 
and eighty millions with all the boundless extent which hes beyond the 
limits of mortal vision ; and at every step of this mental process suffi- 
cient time must be allowed for the imagination to expatiate on the 
x>bjects before it, till the ideas approximate, as near as possible, to the 
reality. In order to form a comprehensive conception of the extent 
of the terraqueous globe, the mind must dwell on an extensive land- 
scape, and the objects with which it is adorned ; it must endeavor to 
survey the many diousands of diversified landscapes which the earth 
exhibits — ^the hills and plains, the lakes and rivers, and mountains, 
which stretch in endless variety over its surface ; it must dive into the 
vast caverns of the ocean^penetrate into the subterraneous regions of 
the globe — and wing its way, amid clouds and tempests, through the 
surrounding atmosphere. It must next extend its flight through the 
inost expansive regions of the solar system, realizing in imagination 
those magnificent scenes which can be descried neither by the naked 
eye nor by die telescope ; and comparing the extent of our sublunary 
world with the more magnificent globes &at roll around us. Leavin g 
the sun, and all his attei»iaot plmiets behind, till they have dhninishe d 



IH DicV* ChrkHm PJUbngiW* 

to tfaee size of a small twinkling star, it must next wing its way to the 
starry regions, and pass from one system of worlds to another^ from 
one nebulffi* to another, from one region of nebul» to another, till it 
arrive at the utmost boundaries of creation which human genius has 
explored. It must also endeavor to extend its flight beyond all that is 
visible by the best telescopes, and expatiate at large in that boundless 
expanse into which no human eye has yet penetrated, and which is, 
doubtless, replenished with other worlds, and systems, and firmaments, 
where the operations of infinite power and beneficence are displayed in 
endless variety, throughout the illimitable regions of space. 

Here, then, with reverence, let us paii^ and wonder I Over all 
this vast assemblage of material existence God presides. Amid the 
diversified/ objects and intelligences it contains. He is eternally and 
essentially present. By His unerring wisdom all its complicaled 
movements are directed. By His almighty fiat it emerged from no- 
thing into existence, and is continually supported from age to age. 
**He spake and it was pons; Hk cqmmamdxd and it stood 
FAST." **• By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all 
the host of them by the spirit of his mouth." What an astonishing 
display of Divine power is here exhibited to our view ! How far 
transcending all finite comprehension must be the eneigies of Him 
who only *^ spake, and it was done ;" who only gave the command, 
and this mighty system of the universe, with all its magnificence, 
started into being ! The infinite ease with which this vast fabric was 
reared, leads us irresistibly to conclude, that there are powers and 
energies in the Divine mind which have never yet been exerted, and 
which may unfold themselves to intelligent beings, in the production 
of still more astonishing and magnificent efiects, during an endless 
succession of existence. That man who is not impressed with a vene* 
rable and overwhelming sense of the power and majesty of Jehovah 
by such contemplations, must have a mind incapable of ardent reli« 

g'ous emotions, and unqualified for appreciating the grandeur of that 
eing *' whose kingdom ruleth over aJL'' Ai^ shall such ennobling 
views be completely withheld firom a Christian audience 1 Shall it be 
considered as a matter of mere indifference, whether their views of the 
Creator's works be limited to the sphere of a few miles around them, 
or extended to ten thousand worlds t — whether they shall be left to 
view the operations of the Almighty throughout eternity past and to 
come, as confined to a small globe placed in the immensity of space, 
with a number of brilliant studb fixed in the arch of heavent at a few 
miles distance ; or as extending through the boundless dimensions of 
space 1 — whether they shall be left to entertain no higher idea of the 
Divine majesty, than what may be due to one of the superior orders 
of the seraphim or cherubim, — or whetber they shall be directed to 
form the most august conceptions of the King eternal, immortal, and 
invisible, corresponding to the displays He has given of His glory in Hia 
visible works 1 If it be not, both reason imd piety require that such 
illustrations of the Divine perfections should occasionally be exhibited 
to their view. ' 
In the next plape, the rapid motioiM of the great bodies of tho 

* For an aeoomU of the nobale, sie eh. ii, aft. Atirmumy^ 



Dky$ ChriMim FkOotopher. 165 

imiverse, no less ffaftn their magnitudes, display the infinite power of 
the Creator. 

We call acquire accurate ideas of the relatire velocities of moying 
bodies only by comparing the motions with which we are familiar with 
one another, and with those which lie beyond the general range of our 
minute inspection. We can acquire a pretty accurate conception of 
the velocity of a ship, impelled by the wind— of a steam boat—of a 
race horse-*-of a bird darting through the air— of an arrow flying from 
a bow — and of the clouds when impelled by a stormy wind. The 
velocity of a ship is from 8 to 12 miles an hour — of a race horse, from 
20 to 80 miles— -of a bird, say from 60 to 60 miles — and of the clouds, 
in a violent hurricane, from 80 to 100 miles an hour. The motion of 
a ball from a loaded cannon is incomparably swifter than any of the 
motions now stated ; but of the velocity of such a body we have a less 
accurate idea ; because, its rapidity being so great, we cannot trace it 
distinctly by the eye through its whole range from the mouth of the 
cannon to the object against which it is impelled. By experiments it 
has been found that its rate of motion is from 480 to 800 miles in an 
hour ; but it is retarded every moment by the resistance of the air and 
the attraction of the earth. This velocity, however, great as it is, 
bears no sensible proportion to the rate of motion which is found 
among the celestial orbs. That such enormous masses of matter 
should move at all is wonderful ; but when we consider the amazing 
velocity with which they are impelled, we are lost in astonishment. 
The planet Jupiter, in describing his circuit round the sun, moves at 
the rate of 29,000 miles an hour. The planet Venus, one of the 
nearest and most brilliant of the celestial bodies, and about the same 
size as the earth, is found to move through the spaces of the firmament 
at the rate of 76,000 miles an hour ; and the planet Mercury, with a 
relocity of no less than 160,000 miles an hour, or 1760 miles in a 
minute — a motion two hundred times swifter than that of a cannon 
ball. 

These velocities will appear still more astonishing, if we consider 
the magnitude of the bodies which are thus impelled, and the immense 
forces which are requisite to carry them along in their courses. How. 
ever rapidly a ball flies from the mouth of a cannon, it is the flight of 
a body only a few inches in diameter ; but one of the bodies, whdse 
motion has been just now stated, is eighty-nine thousand miles in dia- 
meter, and would comprehend within its vast circumference more than 
a thousand globes as large as the earth. Could we contemplate such 
motions from a fixed point, at the distance of only a few hundreds of 
miles from the bodies thus impelled, it would raise our admiration to 
its highest pitch- — ^it would overwhelm all our faculties ; and, in our 
present state, would produce an impression of awe, and even of terror, 
beyond the power of language to express. The earth contains a mass 
of matter equal in weight to at least 2,200,000,000,000,000,000,000 
tons, supposing its mean density to foe only about 2h times greater 
than water. To move this ponderous mass a single inch beyond its 
position, were it fixed in a quiescent state, would require a mechanical 
force almost beyond the power of numbers to express. The physical 
force of all the myriads of intelligences within the bounds of the plane- 
tary systemi diough their powers were far superior to those of man. 



156 Dit^s Christimn Pkiloioplur. 

would be altogether iDadequate to the production of such a motion* 
How much more must be the force requisite to impel it with a velocity^ 
one hundred and forty times swifter than a cannon ball, or 68,000 
miles an hour, the actual rate of its motion in its course round the sun ! 
But, whatever degree of mechanical power would be requisite to pro- 
duce such a stupendous effect, it would require a force on0 hundred 
and fifly times greater to impel the planet Jupiter in his actual course 
through the heavens ! £ven the planet Saturn, one of the slowest 
moving bodies of our system, a globe 900 times larger than the earth« 
is impelled through the regions of dpace at the rate of 22,000 miles an 
hour, carrying along with him two stupendous rings, and seven moons 
larger than ours, through his whole course round the central luminary. 
Were we placed within a thousand miles of this stupendous globe, (a 
station which superior beings^ may occasionally occupy,) where its 
hemisphere, encompassed by its magnificent rings, would fill the whole 
extent of our vision — the view of such a ponderous and glorious object* 
flying with such amazing velocity before us, would infinitely exceed 
every idea of grandeur we can derive from terrestrial scenes, and 
overwhelm our powers with astonishment and awe. Under such an 
emotion, we could only exclaim, ^*- Great and marvkllous ark tht 
WORKS, Lord God almighty !" The ideas of strength and power 
implied in the impulsion of such enormous masses of matter, through 
the illimitable tracts of space, are forced upon the mind with irresistible 
energy, far surpassing what any abstract propositions or reasonings 
can convey ; and constrain us to exclaim, ^\ Who is a strong Lord like 
unto thee ! Thy right hand is become glorious in power ! The Lord 
God omnipotent reigneth !" 

If we consider the immense number of bodies thus impelled through 
the vast spaces of the universe — the rapidity with which the cametSt 
when near the sun, are carried through the regions they traverse, — ^if 
we consider the high probability, if not absolute certainty,' that the sun, 
with all his attendant planets and comets, is impelled with a still 
greater degree of velocity toward some distant region of space, or 
around some wide circumference — that all the thousands of systems 
of that nebulsB, to which the sun belongs, are moving in a similar 
manner — that all the nebulse in the heavens are moving aiound some 
magnificent central body — ^in short, that all the suns and worlds in the 
universe are in rapid and perpetual motion, as constituent portions of 
one grand and boundless empire, of which Jehovah is the Sovereign-^ 
and, if we consider still farther, that all these mighty movements have 
been going on, without intermission, during the course of many centau- 
ries, and some of them, perhaps, for myriads of ages befoi'e the foun« 
dations of our world were laid — it is impossible for the human mind to 
form any adequate idea of the stupendous forces which are in inces- 
sant operation throughout the .unlimited empire of the Almighty. To 
estimate such mechanical force, even in a single instance, completely 
baffles the mathematician's skill, and sets the power of numbers at 
defiance. '* Language," and figurea, and comparisons, are ** lost in 
wonders sp sublime;" and the mind, overpowered with such reflec- 
tions, is irresistibly led upward to search for the cause in that Omni- 
potent Being who upholds the pillars of the universe — the thunder 
of whose power none can comprehend. While contemplating such 



BitVsCkrUtiun PhOoB^kir. 15T 

august objects, how emfrfiatic and impressm a|ype«n the language of 
&e sacred oracles : ** Canst thou, by searching, find out Godl Qanst 
thou find out the Almighty to perfection? Great things doth He which 
we cannot comprehends Thine^ Lord, is the greatness, and the 
glory, and the majesty ; for all that is in heaven and earth is thina. 
Among the gods there is none like unto tiiee, Lord, neither are 
there any works tike unto thy works. Thou art greats and dost won- 
^ous things ; thou art God alone. Hast thou not known, hast thou not 
heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of all things, 
fainteth not, neither is weary? There is no searching c( his under- 
standing. Let all the earth fear the Lord> let all the inhabitants of the 
world stand in awe of Him ; for He ijmIm, and it um$ dame ; He oom- 
manded) and it stood fast" 

Again; the tmnieiise $puc$B which surround the heavenly bodies, 
and in which they perform their revolutions, tend to expand our con- 
eefytions on this subject, and to illustrate the magnificence of the Divine 
operations. In whatever point of view we contemplate the scenery of 
the heavens, an idea of grandeinr irresistibly bursts upon the mind ; 
and i£ empty space can« m*any sense, be considered as an object of 
sublimity, nothing can fill 'the mmd with a grander idea of magnitude 
and extension than the amplitude of the scide on which planetary sys- 
tems are constructed. Around die body of the sun there is allotted a 
cubical spacey 3,600 millions of miles in diameter, in which eleven 
planetary globes revolve, every one being separated from another by 
intervals of jnany millions of miles. The space which surrounds the 
utmost limits of our system, extending in every direction to the nearest 
fixed 8ta.rs, is, at least, 40,000,000,000,000 miles in diameter ; and it 
is highly probable that every star is surrounded by a space of equal, or 
even of greater extent A body impelled with the greatest velocity which 
art can produce — a cannon ball, for instance — ^would require twenty 
years to pass through the space that intervenes between the earth and 
the sun, and four millions, seven hundred thousand years ere it could 
reach the nearest star. Though the stars seem to be crowded together 
in clusters, and some of them almost to touch one another, yet the 
distance between any two stars which seem to make the nearest 
approach, is such as neither words can express, nor imagination fathom. 
These immense spaces are as unfathomable, on the one hand, as the 
magnitude of the bodies which move in them, and their prodigious 
velocities, are incomprehensible on the other ; and they form a part of 
those magnificent proportions according to which the fabric of univer- 
sal nature was arranged — all correspooding to the majesty of that 
infinite and incomprehensible Being, " who measures the ocean in the 
hollow of His hand, and meteth out the heavens with p. span." How 
wonderful that bodies at such prodigious distances should exert a 
mutual influence on one another ! — that the moon, at the distance of 
240,000 miles, should raise tides in the ocean, and currents in the 
atmosphere ! — that the sun, at the distance of ninety-five millions of 
mOes, should raise the vapors, move the ocean, direct the course of the 
winds, fructify the earth, and distribute light, and heat, and color, 
through every region of the globe ; yea, that his attractive influence, 
and fructifying energy, should extend even to the planet Herschel, at 
the distance of eighteen hundred milUons of miles ! So that, in every 

Vol. YL— April, 1835. 14 



158 DkVs ChrUHan PkOoMphm'. 

point of view in which the universe is cootemplatedi we peiceive the 
same grand acah of operation by which the Almightj has ananged the 
provinces of His universal kingdom. 

We would now ask, in the name of all that is sacred* whetiier sudi 
magnificent manifestations of Deity ought to be considered as irrele* 
vant in the business of religion ; and whether they ought to be thrown 
completely into the shade, in the discussions which ta&e place in reli« 
gious topics, in ^^ the assemblies of the saints 1" If religion consists 
in the intellectual apprehension of the perfections of Grod, and in the 
moral effects produced by such an apprehension,— -if all the rays of 
glory emitted by the luminaries of heaven, are only so many reflections 
of the grandeur of Him who dwells in light unapproachable, — ^if they 
have a tend^icy to assist the mind in forming its conceptions of that 
ineffiible Being, whose uncreated glory cannot be directly contem- 
plated, — and S they are calculated to produce a sublime and awful 
impression on all created intelligences, — shall we rest contented with 
a less glorious idea of God than His wod&s are calculated to affind? 
Shall we disregard the works of the Lord, and contemn ** the opera- 
tions of His hands," and that, too, in the face of all the invitations on 
this subject, addressed to us from heaven 1 For thus saith Jehovah : 
** Lift up your eyes on high, and behold, who hath created these things* 
who bringeth forth their host by number, — ^I, the Lord, who maketh all 
thipgs, who stretcheth forth the heavens alone, and spread abroad the 
earth by Himself; all their host have I commanded." And if, at the 
command of God, we lift up our eyes to the " firmament of His power," 
singly we ought to do it, not with a brute " unconscious gaze"-*-not 
with the vacant stare pf a savage — not as if we were still enveloped 
with the mists and prejudices of the dark ages — ^but as surrounded by 
that blaze of light which modem science has thrown upon the scenery 
of the sky, in order that we may contemplate with fixed attention all 
that enlightened reason, aided by die nicest observations, has ascer- 
tained respecting the magnificence of the celestial orbs. To overlook 
the subUme discoveries of modem times, to despise them, or to call in 
question their reality, as some religionists have done, because they 
bring to our ears such astonishing reports of the '« eternal power" and 
majesty of Jehovah, is to act as if we were afraid lest the Deity should 
be represented as more grand and magnificent than He really is, and 
as if we would be better pleased to pay Him « less share of homage 
and adoration than- is due to His name*' 

After adducing a variety of topics to illustrate the wisdom and intel- 
ligence of the Deity, such as the arrangement, velocity, and magnitude 
of the heavenly bodies, their general relations, and adaptation to each 
other, and to their uses, he has the following very appropriate remarks 
on the variety of ncUure : — 

^ As a striking evidence of Divine intelligence, we may next .consider 
the immerue variety which the Creator has introduced into every depart" 
ment of the material ioorld. 

In every region on the surface of the globe an endless multiplicity 
of objects, all differing fi:om one another in shape, color, and motion* 



BUk'$ Christian Phihtopfur. 15f 

present themselves to the view of the beholder. Mountains covered 
with forests, hills clothed with verdure, spacious plains adorned with 
vineyards, orchards, and waving grun ; naked rocks, abrupt precipices, 
extended vales, deep dells, meandering rivers, roaring cataracts, brooks 
and rills ; lakes and gulfs, bays and promontories, seas and oceans, 
caverns and grottoes — mfieet the eye of the student of nature, in every 
country, with a variety which is at once beautiful and majestic. No- 
thing can exceed the variety of the wgetabh kingdom^ which pervades 
all climates, and almost every portion of the dry land, and of the bed 
of the ocean. The immense collections of natural history which are 
to be seen in the Museum at Paris, show that botanists are already 
acquainted with nearly fifly-six thousand different species of plants. 
{Edinburgh Philosophical Journal^ J^y^ 1822, p. 48.) And yet, it is 
probable, that these form but a very small portion of what actually 
exists, and that several hundreds of thousands of species remains to 
be explored by the industry of future ages : for by far the greater part 
of the vegetable world still remains to be surveyed by the scientific 
botanist. Of the numerous tribes of vegetable nature which flourkh 
in tile interior of Africa and America, in the immense islands of New 
Holland, New Guinea, Borneo, Sumatra, Java, Ceylon, Madagascar, 
and Japan ; in the vast regions of Tartaiy, Thibet* Siberia, and die 
Burmax^ empire ; ia the Philippines, the Moluccas, the Ladrones, the 
Carolinas, the Marquesas, the Society, the Georgian, and in thousands 
of other islands which are scattered over the Indian and Pacific oceans 
— little or nothing is known by the naturalists of Europe ; and yet it is 
a fact which admits of no dispute, that every country hitherto explored 
produces a variety of specie^ of plants peculiar to itself; and those 
districts in Europe which have been frequently surveyed present to 
every succeeding explorer a new field of investigation, and reward his 
industry with new discoveries of the beauties and varieties of the vege- 
table kingdom. It has been conjectured by some naturalists, on tiie 
ground of a multitude of observations, that *< there is not a square 
league of earth biit what presents some one plant peculiar to itself, or, 
at least, which thrives there better, or appears more beautiful than in 
any other part of the world." This would make the number of species 
of vegetables to amount to as many millions as there are of square 
leagues on the surface of the earth. 

Now every one of these species of plants differs from another, in its 
size, structure, form, flowers,4eaves, fruits, mode of propagation, color, 
medicinal virtues, nutritious qualities, internal vessels, and the odors it 
exhales. They are of all sizes, from the microscopic mushroom, invi- 
sible to the naked eye, to the sturdy oak, and the cedar of Lebanon, 
and fi*om the slender willow to the Banian tree, under whose shade 
7000 persons may find ample room to repose. A thousand different 
shades of color distinguish the different species. Every one wears its 
peculiar livery, and is distinguished by its own native hues ; and many 
of their inherent beauties can be distinguished only by the help of the 
microscope. Some grow upright, others creep along in a serpentine 
form. Some flourish for ages, others wither and decay in a few 
months ; some spring up iti moist, others in dry soils ; some turn to- 
ward* the sun, others shrink and contract when we approach to touch 
them. Not only are the different species of plants and flowers distin- 



160 Dieh'i ChrUtian Philosopher. 

guished from each other by their different forms, but even the different 
mdtviduals of the same species. Ip a bed of tulips or carnations, for 
example, there is scarcely a iiower in which some difference may not 
be observed in its structure, size, or assemblage of cdlors ; nor can any 
two flowers be found in which the shape and shades are exactly simi- 
lar. Of all the hundred thousand millions of plants, trees, herbs, and 
flowers, with which our globe is variegated, there are not perhaps two 
individuals precisely alike in every point of view in which tiiey may be 
contemplated ; y^a, there is not, perhaps, a single Jeaf in the forest, 
when minutely examined, that will not be found to differ in certain 
aspects from its fellows. Such is the wonderful and infinite diversity 
with which the Creator has adorned the viegetable kingdom. 

His wisdom is also evidently displayed in this vast profusion of vege- 
table nature — ^in adapting each plant to the soil and situation in which 
it is destined fo flourish — in furnishing it with those Vessels by which it 
absorbs the air and moisture on which it feeds — and in adapting it to 
the nature and necessities of animated beings. As the earth teems 
with animated existence, and as the different tribes of animals depend 
chiefly on the productions of the vegetable kingdom for their subsist^ 
ence, so there is an abundance and a variety of plants adapted to the 
peculiar constitutions of every individual species. This circumstance 
demonstrates that there is a pre-contrived relation and fitness between 
the internal eonstitution of the animal, and the nature of the plants 
which afford it nourishment ; and shows us that the animal and vege- 
table kingdoms are the workmanship of one and the same almighty 
Being, and that, in his arrangements with regard to the one, He had in 
view the necessities of the other. 

When we direct our attention to the tribes of animated nature^ we 
behold a scene no less variegated and astonishing. Above fifty thou* 
sand species of animals have been detected and described by natural- 
ists, beside several thousands of species which the naked eye cannot 
discern, and which people the invisible regions of the waters and the 
air. And, as the greater part of the globe has never yet been tho- 
roughly explored, several hundreds, if not thousands, of species 
unknown to the scientific world may exist in the depths of the ocean^ 
and in the unexplorisd regions of the land. All these species differ 
from one another in color, size, and shape — ^in the internal structure 
of their bodies-— in the number' of their sensitive organ?, limbs, feet, 
joints, claws, wings, and fins— ^in their dispositions, faculties, move- 
ments, and modes of subsistence. They are of all sizes, from tiie mite 
and the gnat up to the elephant and the whale ; and from the mite 
downward to those invisible animalcute, a hundred thousand of which 
would not equal a grain of sand. Some fly through the atmosphere, 
some glide through the waters, others traverse the solid land; Some 
walk on two, some on four, some on twenty, and some on a hundred 
feet. Some have eyes furnished with two, some with eight, some with 
a hundred, and some with eight thousand distinct transparent globes, 
for the purpose of vision.* 

* The eyes of beetles, silk-wohns, flies, and several other kinds of insects, are 
among the most curious and wonderful productions of the God of nature. On 
the head of a fly are two large protuberances, one on each side ; these constftuto 
its organs of visioo. The whole torface of these' protuberances is covered with 



Diek^s Ckri$iian PhUoiopker. 161 

Our astoQtshment at the yariety which appears in the animal king- 
dom is still fatther increased when we consider not only the dirersities 
which are apparent in their external aspect, but idso in their internal 
structure and orgaaization. When we reflect on the thousands of 
movements, adjustments, adaptations, and compensations, which are 
requisite in order to the construction of an animal system, for enabling 
it to perform its intended functions ; when we consider that every spe- 
cies of animals has a system of oiganization peculiar to itself, consist* 
iog of bones, joints, blood vessels, and muscular motions, differing in 
a variety of respects from those of any other species, and exactly 
adapted to its various necessities and modes of existence ; and when 
we consider still farther the incomprehensibly delicate contrivances, 
and exquisite borings, poUshings, olaspings, and adaptations, which 
enter into the organization of an animated being ten thousand times 
less than a mite ; and that the different species of these animals are 
likewise all differently organized from one another— we cannot but be 
struck with reverence and astonishment at the inteiUgence of that in* 
comprehensible Being who arranged the organs of all the tribes of 
animated nature, who" breathed into them the breath of life," and who 
continually upholds them in all their movements ! 

Could we descend into the subterraneous apartments of the globe, 
and penetrate into those unknown recesses which lie toward its centre, 
we should doubtless behold a variegated scene of wonders, even in 
those dark and impenetrable regions. But all the labor and industry 
of man have not hitherto enabled him to penetrate farther into the 
bowels of the earth than the six thousandth part of its diameter ; so that 
we must remain for ever ignorant of the immense caverns and masses 
of matter that may exist, and of the processes that may be going on 
about its centra] regions. In those regions, howdver, near the surface, 
which lie within the sphere of human inspection, we perceive a variety 
analogous to that which is displayed in the other departments of nature. 
Here we find substances of various kinds fcnrmed into strata or layers 
of different dep&s — earths, sand, gravel, marl, clay, sandnstone, free* 

a moltitade of small hemispheres, placed with the utmost res^arity in rows, 
orossing each other in a kind of lattice work. These little hemiapteres have 
each of them a minute transparent convex lens in the middle, each of which has 
a distinct branch bf the optic nerve ministering to it ; so that the different lenses 
may be considered as so -many distinct eyes. Mr. Iveeawenhoek counted 6336 
in the two eyes of a silk* worm, When in its^y state; 3180 in each eye of the 
beetle ; and 8000 in the two eyes of a common fiy^ Mr. Hook reckoned 14,000 
in the eyes of a drone fly ; and, in one of the eyes of a dragon fly, there have 
been reckoned 13,600 of these lenses, and, consequently, in both ey^s 27,600, 
0rery one of which is capable of forming a distinct image of any object, in the 
same manner as a common convey glass ; so that therd are 37,000 images formed 
on the retina of this little animal. Mr. Leeuwenhoek having prepared the eye 
of a fly for the purpose, placed it a litUe farther from his microscope than when 
he would examine an object, so as to leave a proper local distance between it and 
the lens of his microscope ; and then looked through both, in the manner of a 
telescope, at the steeple of' the church, which was 299 feet high, and 750 fe^t 
distant, and could plainly see through every little lens, the whole steeple inverted, 
though not larger than the point of a fine needle ; and then, directing it to a 
neighboring house, saw through many of these little hemispheres, not only the 
front of the house, but also th^ doors and windows, and could discern distioctly 
whether the windows were open or shut. Such an exquisite piece of Divin« 
mechanism traowM&ds aU human comprehenuon. 

14* 






162 Dick^s Ckriiiian PhOoiopher. 

stone, marble, lime-stonei foesils, coals, peat, and simitar materialff^ 
In these strata are found metals and minerals of various descriptions- 
salt, nitrate of potash, ammoniay sulphur, bitumen, platina, gold, silver, 
mercury, iron, lead, tin, copper, zinc, nickel, roanganeze, cobalt, anti- 
mony, the diamond, rubies, sapphires, jaspers, emeralds, and a count- 
less variety of other substances« of incalculable benefit to mankind* 
Spme of these substances are so essentially requisite for the comfort 
of man, that, without them, he would soon degenerate into the savage 
state, and be deprived of all those arts which extend his knowledge, 
and which cheer and embellish the abodes of civilized life. 

If we turn our eyes upward to the regions of the atmosphere, we 
may abo behold a spectacle of variegated magnificence. Sometimes 
the sky is covered with sable clouds, or obscured wiUi mists ; at other 
times it is tinged with a variety of hues, by the- rays of the rising or 
the setting sun. . Sometimes it presents a pure azure, at other times it 
is diversiSed with strata <^ dappled clouds. At one time we behold 
the rainbow rearing its majestic arch, adorned with all the colors of 
light ; at another, the aurora borealis illuminating the sky with its fan- 
tastic corruscations. At one time we behpld the fiery meteor sweep- 
ing through the air ; at another, we perceive the forked lightning darting 
from the clouds, and hear the thundiers rolling through the sky. Some- 
times the vault of heaven appears like a boundless desert, and at other 
times adorned with an innumerable host of stars, and with the mooA 
** walking in brightness." In short, whether we direct our view to the 
vegetable or the animal tribes, to the atmosphere, the ocean, the moun- 
tains, the plains, or the subterranean recesses of the globe, we behold 
a scene of beauty, order, and variety ^ which astonishes and enraptures 
the contemplative mind, and constrains us to join in the devout excla^ 
mations of the psalmist, *< Haw manifold are thy uorka^ Lord ! la 
wisdom hast diou made them all ; the earth is full of tl^ riches ; so i» 
the great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping, inHU/merahUf both 
small and great beasts." 

This countless variety of objects which appears throughout every 
department of our sublunary system, not only displays the depths of 
Divine wisdom, but also presents us with a faint idea of the infinity 
of the Creator, and of the immense multipliciiy of ideas and concepiion9 
which must have existed in the Eternal Mind, when the fabric of oor 
globe, and its numerous tribes of inhabitants, were i^ranged and brought 
into existence. And, if every other world which floats in the immen- 
sity of space be diversified with a similar variety of existence, altoge- 
ther different from ours, (as we have reason to believe, from the variety 
we already perceive, and from the boundless plans and conceptions of 
the Creator,^ the human mind is lost and confounded when it attempts 
to form an idea of those endlessly diversified plans, conceptions, and 
views, which must have existed during an eternity past in the Divine 
raind. When we would attempt to enter into the conception of so vast 
and varied operations, we feel our own littleness, and the narrow limits 
of our feeble powers, and can only exclaim, with the Apostle Paul, 
*^ the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! 
how unsearchable are His counsels, and His ways of creation and pro- 
videndb past finding out!" 

This characteristic of variety, which is stamped on all the works of 



DicVs ChtUtiM PIMoBophm'. l%9 

Omnipotence, is, doubtless, intended jto gratifj the principle of curio- 
sity, and the love of novelty, which are implanted in the humaito' breast; 
and thus to excite rational beings to the study and investigation of tho 
works of the Creator, that therein they may behold the glory of tho 
Divine character, and be stimulated to the exercise of love, admiratioOv 
and reverence. For as the records of revelation, and the dispensation* 
of Providence, display to us the various aspects of the moral character 
of Deity, so the diversified phenomena, and the multiplicity of objects 
and operations which the scenery of nature exhibits, present to us a 
specimen of the tclecw, as it were, of the Eternal Mind, in so far as they 
can be adumbrated by material objects, and exhibited to mortals, 
through the medium of corporeal organs. 

To convey an adequate conception of the number of these ideas, a» 
exhibited on the globe in which we live, would baffle the arithmetician's 
skill, and set his numbers at defiance. We may, however, assist our 
conceptioos a little, by confining our attention to one department of 
nature ; for example, the animal kingdom. The number. of the dif* 
ferent species of animals, taking into account those which are hitherto 
undiscovered, and those which are invisible to the naked eye, cannot 
be estimated at less than 300,000. In a human body there are reck- 
oned about 446 muscles, in each of which, according to anatomists* 
there are, at least, 10 several intentions or due qualifications to be ob- 
served — ^its proper figure, its- just magnitude, the right disposition of its 
several ends, upper and lower, the position of the whole, the insertion 
of its proper nerves, veins, arteries, &c, so that in the muscular system 
alone there are 4,460 (several ends or aims to be attended to. The 
bones are reckoned to be in number about 245, and the distinct scopes 
or intentions of each of these are above 40 ; in all, about 9,800 ; so 
that the system of bones and muscles alone, without taking any other 
parts into consideration, amounts to above 14,000 difierent intentions 
or adaptations. If now, we suppose, that all the species of animals 
above stated are differently constructed, and taken one with another 
contain, at an average, a system of bones and muscles as numerous 
as in the human body, the number of species must be multiplied by 
the number of difierent aims or adaptations, and the product will, 
amount to 4,200,000,000. If we were next to attend to the many 
thousands of blood vessels in an animal body, and the numerous hga- 
ments, membranes, humors, and fiuids of various descriptions — the 
skin, with its millions of pores, and every other part of an organical 
system, with the aims and intentions of each, we should have another 
sum of maoy hundreds of millions to be multiplied by the former pro- 
duct, in order to express the diversified ideas which enter into the con- 
struction of the animal world. And, if we still farther consider, that 
of the hundreds of millions of individuals belonging to each species, 
no two individuals exactly resemble each other— that all the myriads 
of vegetables with which the earth is covered are distinguished from, 
each other by some one characteristic or another — ^and that every grain 
of sand contained in the mountains, and in the bed of the ocean, as 
shown by the microscope, discovers a different form and configuration 
from another — we are here presented with an image of the infinity of 
the conceptions of Him, in whose ihcompreheniiible mind they, all 
existed, during countless ages, before the universe was formed. 



164 Diek^s Chriatian Philoiopher, 

To overlook this amazing scene of Divine intelligence, or to con* 
sider it as beneath our notice, as some have done — ^if it be not the 
characteristic of impiety, is at least the mark of a weak and indiscri- 
minating mind. The man who disregards the visible displays of infi- 
nite wisdom, or who neglects to investigate them when opportunity 
offers, acts as if he considered himself already possessed of a sufficient 
portion of intelligence, and stood in no need of sensible assistances to 
direct his conceptions of the Creator. Pride, and false conceptions of 
the nature and design of true religion, frequently lie at the foundation 
of all that indifference and neglect with which the visible works of God 
are treated, by those who mike pretensions to a high degree of spi* 
ritual attainments. The truly pious man will trace, with wonder and 
delight, the footsteps of his Father and his God, wherever they appear 
in the variegated scepe of creation around him, and will be filled with 
sorrow and contrition of heart, that, amid his excursions and solitary 
walks, he has so often disregarded the '* works of the Lord, and the 
operation of His hands." 

In fine, the variety which appears on the face of nature, not only 
enlarges our conceptions of infinite wisdom, but is also the foundation 
of all our discriminations and judgments as rational beings, and is of 
the most essential utility in the affairs of human society. Such is the 
variety of which the features of the human countenance are suscepti- 
^^ ^* ble, that it is probable that no two individuals of all the millions of the 
*'?race of Adam, that have existed since the beginning of time, would be 
ifound to resemble each other. We know no two human beings pre- 
sently existing, however similar to each other, but may be distinguished 
either by their stature, their forms, or the features of their faces ; and 
on the ground of this dissimilarity, the various wheels of the machine 
of society move onward without clashing or confusion. Had it been 
otherwise — had the faces of men, and their organs of speech, been cast 
exactly in the same mould, as would have been the case had the world 
been framed, according to the Epiciurean system, by blind chance 
directing a concourse of atoms, it might haye been as difficult to dis- 
tinguish one human countenance from another, as to distinguish the 
eggs laid by the same hen, or the drops of water which trickle from the 
same orifice ; and, consequently, society would have been thrown into' 
a state of universal anarchy and confusion. Friends would not have 
been distinguished from enemies, villains from the good and honest, 
fathers from sons, the culprit from the innocent person, nor the bnuicfaes 
of the same family fi'om one another. And what a scene of perpetual 
confiision and disturbance would thus have been created ! Frauds, 
thefts, robberies, murders, assassinations, forgeries, and injustice of all 
kinds, might have been daily committed without the least possibility 
of detection. Nay, were even the narieiy of tones in the human voice, 
peculiar to each person, to cease, and .the hand uriting o£ all men to 
become perfectly uniform, a multitude of distressing deceptions and 
perplexities wourld be produced in the domei^tic, civil, and commercial 
transactions of mankind* But the all-wise and beneficent Creator has 
prevented all such evils and inconvenieficies, by the character of varte^y 
which He has impressed on the human species, and on all His works. 
By the peculiar features of his countenance every man may be distin- 
guished in the light ; by the tones of his voice he may be recognized 



DkVi Chruiian PhUoiopher. • 1«5 

in the dark^ or when he is se[Mimted from his fellows by an impene- 
trable partition ; and his hand writing can attest his existence and indi- 
viduality* when c<HitiDents and oceans interpose between him and his 
relations, and be a witness oi his sentiments and purposes to future 
generations.' 

Like the industrious bee, ^^ch galhers its hooej from every open* 
ing fiower, Mr. Dick ranges through the whole field of human scienoei 

explores, so far as the lights of knowledge will conduct him, every 
part of the creation of God, to illustrate his subject, and to confirm 
the Christian in the devout sentiment, that all these things are 

«lmt the varied God.' 

It cannot be expected, however, that we should follow him in this 
short review through his entire circuit of natural and civil history, 
geography, astronomy, geology, natural philosophy! snd chemistry, 
from each of which he deduces arguments from the undoubted ftds 
which are devek>ped by these several branches of science in favor of 
his general theme. We cannot withhold, however, from our readers 
the following instructive reflections on the study of the works of the 
Almighty as they are seen in the volume of natural history : — 

* Thus it appears, that the universe extends to infinity on eitbmr 
hand ; and that wherever matter exists, from the ponderous globes of 
heaven down to the invisible atom, there the almighty Creator has pre- 
pared habitations for countless orders of existence, from the seraph to 
the animalculse, in order to demonstrate His boundless beneficence, 
and the infinite variety of modes by which He can difiuse happiness 
through the universal system. 

<* How4aiweet to tniue upon Hii skill display'dj 

Infinite skill ! in all that He has made ; 

To trace in natufto's most minnte desijrn 

The signatare and stamp of power Divine ; 

Contrivance exqaisite, ezpress'd with ease, 

Where unassisted sii^ht no beauty sees ; 

The shapely limb and lubrioated joint, 

Within the small dimensions of a point ; 

Musele and perve miraculously qmn. 

His mighty work who speaks, ,and it is done, 
. Th' invisible in things scarce seen reveal'^; 

To whom an atom is an ample field.** — Cotopet^i Retirement. 

With regard to the religious tendency of the study of natural history, 
it may be remarked, that, as all the ol^ects which it embraces are th^ 
workmanship ef Qod^ the delineations and descriptions of the natural 
historian must be considered as '^ the history of the operations e^ the 
Creator ;" or, in other words, so far as the science extends, ^' the his- 
tory of the Creator himself:" for the marks of His incessant agency* 
His power, insdomt sn<) beneficence ar^ impressed ^on eVery object, 
however minute, throughout the three kingdoms of nature, and through- 
out every region of earth, air, and sky. As the Deity is invisible to 
mortal eyes, and cannot be directly contemplated by finite, minds. 



166 Diel^M ChriaiUin Philo9apher. 

^thout some material medintn of commuincation, there are but two 
mediums with which we are acquainted by which we can attain a know- 
ledge of His nature and perfections. These are either the faci$ which 
have occurred in the course of His providential dispensations toward 
our race since the commencement of time, and the moral tnrtha con- 
nected with them-^or the facts which are displayed in the economy of 
nature* The first class of facts is recorded in die sacred history, and 
in the alknab of nations ; the second class is exhibited in the diversified 
objects and motions whk^h appear throughout the eystem of ihe visible 
universe* The one may be termed the moral history, and the pther 
the natural history of the operations of the Creator. It is obviously 
incumbent on every rational being to contemplate the Creator through 
both these mediums ; for each of them ccmveys its distinct and pecu- 
liar revelations ; and, consequently, our perception of Deity through 
the one medium jloes not supersede the necessity of our contemplating 
Him through the other* While, therefore, it is our duty to contemplate 
die perfections, the providehce, and the agency of God, as displayed 
in the Scripture revelation, it is also incumbent upon us to trace His 
attributes in the system of nature, in order that we may be enabled to 
contemplate the eternal Jehovah in every variety of aspect, in which 
He has been pleased to exhibit himself, in the universe He has formed* 
/ The visible creation may be considered as a permanent and sensible 
manifestation of Deity, intended every moment to present to our view 
the unceasing energies of Him ** in whom we live and move." And 
if the train of our thoughts were directed in its proper channel, we 
would perceive God in every object and in every movement : we would 
behold Him operating in the whirlwind, and in the storm ; in the sub- 
terraneous cavern, and in the depths of the ocean ; in the gentle rain, 
and'H^ refreshing breeze ; in the rainbow, the fiery meteor, and the 
%fat^^s flash ; in the splendors of the sun, and the majestic move- 
^jIBJm the heavens ; in the frisking of the lambs, the songs of birds, 
|tiDd'the buzz of insects; in the circulation of our blood, the move- 
ments of our joints, the motion of our eyeballs, and in the rays of light 
which are continually darting from surrounding objects for the pur- 
poses of vision. For these, and ten thousand other agencies in the 
systems of nature, are nothing else but the voicie of Deity, proclaiming 
to the sons of men in silent, but emphatic language, " Stand still, and 
consider the wonderful works of God !" 

If, then, it be 'admitted, that the study of nature is the study of the 
Creator — ^to overlook the grand and beautiful scenery with which we 
are surrounded, or^o undervalue any thing which Infinite Wisdom has 
formed, i's to overlook and contemn the Creator Himself. Whatever 
God has thought proper to create, and to priBsent to our view in the 
visible w^rld, 'it becomes man to study and conteQiplate, that from 
thence he may derive motives to excite faim to the exercise of reverence 
and adoration, of gratitude and praise. In so &r as any individual is 
unacquainted with the various facts of the history of nature, in so far 
does he remain ignorant of the manifestations of Deity ; for eVery ob- 
ject on the theatre of the universe exhibits His character and designs 
hi a different point of view. He who sees God only as He displays 
Himself in His operations on the earth, but has never contemplated the 
firmament with the eye of reason, must be unacquainted with those 



^YKkAvit^g eneff^es of eternal power which are diapkyed in the atupen- 
dous fabric and moyementa of the orba of heaven. He who aeea God 
only in the general appearancea of naturOt but neglects to penetrate 
into His minute q>erations, must remain ignorant of those astonishing 
nuuaUeatati<Mis of Divine wisdom and skill which appear in the contri- 
vances, adaptations, and flinctions of the animal and the vegetable 
kingdoms. For the more we know of the work, the more accurate and 
e<«nprehensive will be our views of the Intelhgence by whom it was 
designed ; and the farther we cany our investigations of the woriu of 
God, the more admirable and astonishing will His plans and peifec- 
tions appear. 

In short, a devout contemplatioa of the woriu of nature tends to 
otmoble the human soul, and to dignify and exalt the affoctions. It 
inspires the mind with a relish of the beauty, the harmony, and order 
which snbust in the universe around us ; it elevates the soul to the 
love and admiration of that Being who is the author of our comforts, 
and of all that is sublime and beneficent in creation, and excites us to 
join with all holy beings in the chorus of praise to the God and Father 
of all. For they 

** Whom nature's works can eharm, with God Hhnielf 
Hold convene, grow fiuniliar day hy day 
With Hii eonee^ons, act upon His plaii» 
And form to His the relish of their souls." 



The man who surveys the vast field of nature, with the eye of reason 
and devotion, will not only gain a more comprehensive view of that 
illimitable power which organized the universe, but will find his sources 
of enjoyment continually increased, and will feel an ardent desire 
afler tlmt glorious world, where the veil which now hides from our 
sight some of the grandest manifestations of Deity will be withdraws^* 
and the wonders of Omnipotence be displayed in all their splenS^I and 
perfection. 

In conformity with these sentiments, we find the inspired writers, in 
numerous instances, calling our attention to the wonders of creating 
power and wisdom. In one of the first speeches in which the Almighty 
is introduced as addressing the sons of men, and the longest one in 
the Bible, (Job, chap, xxxviii, xxxix, xl, xli,) our attention is exclu- 
sively directed to the subjects of natural history ; — the whole address 
having a reference to the economy of Divine wisdom in the arrange- 
ment of the world at its first creation — the wonders of the ocean, and 
of light and darkness — ^the phenomena of thunder and lightning, rain, 
hail, snow, frost, and other meteors in the atmosphere*— the inteUectual 
faculties of man, and the economy and instincts of quadrupeds, birds, 
fishes, and other tribes of animated existence. Indeed, the greater 
part of the subhme descriptions contained in the book of Job has a 
direct reference to the agency of God in the material creation, and to 
the course of His providence in relation to the different characters of 
men ; and the reasonings of the different speakers in that sacred 
drama proceed on -the supposition that their auditors were intimately 
acquainted with the varied appearances of nature, ai^ ^ir tendency 
to exhibit the character and perfections of the omnipotent Creator. 
We find the psalmist, in the 104th Psalm, employed in a devout de- 



^.■■ 



168 Dith't CkrUiian PhUosopher. 

6cnption of similar objects^ i>om the contemplation of which hi« mind 
is raised to adoring views of their almighty Author ; and, from the 
whole of his survey, he deduces the following conchisions : — *^ H^w 
manifold are thy works^ O Lord ! In vn$dom thou hast made them 
all ! The earth is full of thy riches ; so is this great and wide sea, 
wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. 
The glory of the Lord shall endure for ever ; the Lord shall rejoice in 
all His works** I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live ; I will 
sing praises to my God while I have my being." 

But, in order to enter into the spirit of such sublime reflections, we 
must not content ourselves with a superficial and cursory view of the 
objects axki operations of nature ; we must not think it sufficient to 
acquiesce in such vague propositions as these— *^ The glory of God is 
seen in every blade of grass, and every drop of water ; bW nature is 
full of wonders, from the dust of the earth to the stars of the flrma- 
ment.'* We must study the works of creation with ardor, survey them 
with minute attention, and endeavor to acquire a specific and compre^ 
heMtve knowledge of the Creator's designs. We must endeavor to 
acquire a knowledge of the particular modes, circumstances, coatex- 
ture, configurations, adaptations, structure, functions, and relations of 
those objects in which benevolence and design conspicuously appear — 
in the animal and the vegetable world, in ^e ocean, the atmosphere, 
and the heavens — that the mind may be enabled to draw the conclu- 
sion with full conviction and intelligence, ^' In wisdam thou hast made 
them aU.^* The pointed interrogatories which Jehovah addressed to 
Job, evidently imply that Job had previously acquired an intimate 
acquaintance with the works of nature. It seems to be taken for 
granted, as a matter of course, that he made himself acquainted with 
the general range of facts in the visible creation ; and the intention of 
the several questions presented to his consideration evidently was to 
impress him with a sense of his own impotency, and to lead'him to the 
investigation of the wonders of creating power which he had formerly 
overlooked. The conclusion which the psalmist draws respecting the 
wisdom displayed throughout all the works of God, plainly intimates 
that he had made the different parts of nature the subject of minute 
examination, and of deep reflection; otherwise he could not have 
rationally deduced his conclusion, or felt those emotions which filled 
his mind with the pious rapture so beautifully expressed in that hymn 
of praise to the Creator of the world. 

We have therefore reason to believe, from these and other instances, 
that pious men, " in fiie days of old," were much more accustomed 
than modem Christians to contemplate and admire the visible worka 

* The glory of tho Lord, in this passage, denotes thti display of His peHJMtions: 
in the material universe ; and the. declaration of the inspired writer plainly inti- 
mates that this display will continue for ever, and will remain as an object of 
unceasing contemplation to all intelligences, and as an eternal monument of 
His power and wisdom. For although the earth and the aerial heavens will be 
changed at the close of that dispensation of Providence which respects ova world* 
yet the general frame of the universe, in its other parts, will remain suhstantially^ 
the same ; and not only so, but will in all probability be perpetually increasing^ 
in magnitude and grandeur. And the change which will be affected in respect 
to the terraqueous globe and its appendages will be such, that Jehovah wUl havft 
reason to " rejoice** in this, as well as in all His other works. 



i 



I 



Diek^i CkrMxm Phitoiopktr. 169 

of the Lord ; and it is surely much to be regretted, that we who eajoj 
so many superior means of informatioB, and who have access to the 
briiliaBt discoveries of later and more enlightened times, should mani* 
fest fio much disregard to ^ the works of Jehovah and the operations 
of His hands." To enaMe the common mass of Christians to enter 
into the spirit of this deltghtinl study and Chri$iitM duiy should, there- 
fore, be one djject of those periodical and other religious woriiLS which 
are put into their hands ; so that they may be enabled, with vigor and 
intelligence, to form the pious resolution of Asaph, *< I will meditate 
on all ihf works, O Lord ! and talk of thy doings.'' «^ I will utter 
abundantly the memory of thy great goodness, and tell of thy won* 
<drouB wois." ' 

- We conclude oar extracts with some of the author's remarks on 
^ the relation which the inventions of human art bear to the objects 

of religion :^— 

* In this chapter^ I )ihall briefly notice a few philosophical and me- 
chanical inventions which have an obvious bearing on religion, and on 
the general propagation of Christianity among the nations. 

The first, and perhaps the most important of the inventions to which 
I allude, is tiie art of printing. This art appears to have been 
invented (at least in Europe) about the year 143(V, by one Laurentius, 
or Lawrence Kostor, a native of Haerlem, a toWn in Holland. As he 
was walking in a wood near the city, he began to cut some letters upon 
the rind of a beach tree, which, for the sake of gratifying his fancy, 
being impressed on paper, he printed one or two Unes as a specimen 
for his grandchildren to follow. This having succeeded, he meditated 
greater things ; and first of all, invented a more glutinous writing ink, 
because he found the common ink sunk and spread ; and thus formed 
whole pages of wood, with letters cut upon them.* By the gradual 
improvement of this art, and its application to the diffusion of know- 
ledge, a new era was formed in the annals of the human race, and in 
the progress of science, religion, and morals. To it we are chiefly 
indebted for our deliverance from ignorance and error, and for most of 

* I am aware that the honor of this' invention has been claimed by other cities 
beside Haerlem, particularly by Strasburg, and Mentz, a city of Germany ; and 
by other individaals beside Laurentius, chiefly by one Fustf commonly coUed I)r. 
Faustus ; by Schoeflfer, and by Guttenberg. It appears that the art, with many 
of its implements, was stolen from Laurentias by one of his servants, whom he 
had bound by an oath to secrecy, who fled to M entz, and first commenced the 
process of printing in that city. Here the art was improved by Fust and Schoef. 
fer, by their invention of metallic instead of wooden types, which were first used. 
When Fust was in Paris, disposing of some Bibles he had printed, at the low 
price (as was then thought) of sixty crowns, the number, and the uniformity of 
the copies he possessed. Created universal agitation and astonishment. Informa. 
tions were given to the police against him as a magician, his lodgings were 
searched, and a great number of copies being found, they were seized. The red 
ink with which they were embellished was said to be his blood : it was seriously 
adjudged that he was in league with the devil ; and if he had not fled from the 
city, most probably he would have shared the fate of those whom ignorant and 
superstitious judges, at that time, condemned for witchcraft ! From this circum- 
stance, let us learn to beware how we view the inventions of genius, and how 
we treat those whose ingenious contrivances may afterward be the means of 
enlightening and meliorating mankind. 

Vol. VI — ^pi-il, 1836. 15 



170 Dick's CkridUm PhOoioplur. 

those scientific discoveries and iroprovemenls in the arts which diatin* 
goish the period in which we live. Without its aid the reformatioa 
from popery could scarcely have been achieved ; for, had the books of 
Luther, one of the first reformers, been multiplied by the slow process 
of hand writing and copying, they could never have been difiused to 
any extent ; and the influence of bribery and of power might have been 
sufficient to have arrested their progress, or even to have erased their 
existence. But, being poured forth firom the press in thousands at a 
time, they spread over the nations, of Europe like an inundation, and 
with a rapidity which neither the authority of princes, nor the schemes 
of priests and cardinals, nor the bulls of popes, could counteract or 
suspend. To this noble invention it is owing that copies of the Bible 
have been multiplied to the extent of many millions — that ten thou- 
sands of them are to be found in every Protestant country — ^and that 
the poorest individual, who expresses a desire for it, may be furnished 
with the " word of life," which will guide him to a blessed immor- 
tality. That Divine light which is destined to illuminate every region 
of flie globe, and to sanctify and reform men of all nations, and kin- 
dreds, and tongues^ is accelerated in its movements, and directed in 
its course through the nations, by the invention of the art of printing ; < 
and ere long it will distribute among the inhabitants of every land the 
'* law and the testimony of the Most High," to guide their steps to the 
regions of eternal bliss. In short, there is not a more powerful engine 
in the hands of Providence for diffusing the knowledge of the nature 
and will of the Deity, and for accomplishing the grand objects of reve- 
lation, than the art of multiplying books, and of conveying intelligence 
through tlie medium of the press. Were no such art in existence, we 
cannot conceive how an extensive and universal propagation of the 
doctrines of revelation could be effected, unless after the lapse of an 
indefinite number of ages. But, with the assistance of this invention, 
in its present improved state, the island of Great Britain alone, within 
less than a hundred years, could furnish a copy of the Scriptures to 
every inhabitant of the world, and would defray the expense of such 
an undertaking, with much more ease, and with a smaller sum, than 
were necessary to furnish the political warfare in which we were lately 
ensaged. 

These considerations teach us, that the ingenious inventions of the 
human min4 are under the direction and control of the Governor of 
the world — are intimately connected with the accomplishment of the 
plan 'of His providence — and have a tendency, either directly or indi- 
rectly, to promote over every region of the earth the progress and 
extension of the kingdom of the Redeemer. They also show us from 
what small beginnings the most magnificent operations of the Divine 
economy may derive their origin. Who could have imagined that the 
simple circumstance of a person amusing himself by cutting a few let- 
ters on the bark of a tree, and impressing them on paper, was inti- 
mately connected with the mental illumination of mankind ; and that 
the art which sprung from this casual process was destined to be the 
principal means of illuminating the nations, and of conveying to the 
ends of the earth *' the salvation of our God ?" But, " He who rules 
in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth," and 
who sees " the end from the beginning," overrules the most minute 



f 



Duh'i Chriaiian PMIoMpW* . 171 

moyetnent of all His creatures, in subserviency to His ultimate de- 
signs, and shows Himself in this respect to be ** wonderful in cbunsel, 
and excellent in working." 

The. Mariner's Compass.*— Another invention which has an inti- 
mate relation to religion is the Art of Aavtgoiton, and the invention 
of the Mariner^a Compaaa. Na:vigation is the art of conducting a ship 
Utfough the sea from one pprt to another. This art was partly known 
and practised in the early ages of antiquity by the Phenicians, the Car- 
thaginians, the Egyptians, the Romans, and other nations of Europe 
and Asia. But they had no guide to direct them in their voyages, 
except the sun in the day time, and the stars by night When the sky 
was overcast with clouds they were thrown into alarms, and durst not 
venture to any great distance from the coast, lest they should be car- 
ried forward in a course opposite to that which they intended, or be 
driven against hidden rocks or unknown shores. The danger and dif* 
ficulty of the navigation of the ancients on this account may be learned 
from the deliberations, the great preparations, and the alarms of Ho- 
mer's heroes, when they were about to cross the Egean Sea, an extent 
of not more than one hundred and fifty miles ; and the expedition of the 
Argonauts under Jason, across the sea of Marmora and the Euxine, 
to the island of Colchis, a distance of only four or five hundred miles, 
was viewed as a most wonderful exploit at which even the gods them- 
selves were said to be amazed. The same thing appears from the 
narration we have in the Acts of the Apostles of Paul's voyage from 
Cesarea to Rome. ** When," says Luke, *< neither sun nor stars in 
many days appeared, and no small tempests lay on us, all hope that 
we should be saved was then taken away." Being deprived of these 
guides, they were tossed about in the Mediterranean, not knowing 
whether they were carried to north, south, east, or west. So that the 
voyages of antiquity consisted chiefly in creeping along the coast, and 
seldom venturing beyond sight of land. They could not therefore 
extend their excursions by sea to distant continents and nations ; and 
hence the greater portion of the terraqueous globe and its inhabitants 
were to them altogether unknown. It was not before the invention of 
the mariner^a compaaa that distant voyages could be undertaken, that 
extensive oceans could be traversed, and an intercourse carried on 
between remote continents and the islands of the ocean. 

It is somewhat uncertain at what precise period this noble discovery 
was made ; but it Appears pretty evident that the mariner's compass 
was not commonly used in navigation before the year 1420,^ or only a 
few years before die invention of printing.* The loadstone in all ages 
was known to have the property of attracting iron ;- but its tendency to 
point toward the north and south seems to have been unnoticed till the 

* The inyeiition of the compass is usually ascribed to Falrio Gioia, of Amalfi, 
in Campania, about the year 1303 ; and the Italians are strenuous in supporting 
this claim. <- Others affirm that Marcus Paulus, a Venetian, having made a jour. 
ney to China, brought back the. intention with him in 1360. The French also 
lay claim to the honor of this invention, from the circumstance that all nations 
distinguish the north point of the card by h^ur delui and, with equal reason, 
the English haye laid claim to the same honor, from the name compose, by which 
most nations have agreed to distinguish it. But, whoever were the inventors, 
or at whatever period this insfmmeut was first constructed, it does not appear 
that it was brought into general xm before tka period mentioned in the text. 



. J 



172 Dich^i ChHiiian Philoiopher* 

beginning of the twelfth century. About that time some curiouff per* 
sons seem to have amused themselves by making to swim, in a basin 
of water, a loadstone suspended on a piece of cork; and to have 
remarked, that when lefl at liberty, one of its extremities pointed to 
the north. They had also remarked, that, when a piece of iron is 
rubbed against the loadstone, it acquires also the property of tuming^ 
toward the north, and of attracting needles and filings of iron. From 
one experiment to another, they proceeded to lay a needle, touched 
with the magnet, on two small bits of straw floating on the water, and 
to observe tibat the needle invariably turned its point toward the north* 
The first use they seem to have made of these experiments was to 
impose upon simple people by the appearance of magic. For example, 
a hollow swan, or the figure of a mermaid, was inade to swim in a 
basin of water, and to follow a knife with a bit of bread upon its point 
which had been previously rubbed on the loadstone. The experi* 
menter convinced them of his power, by commanding, in this way, a 
needle laid on the surface of the water, to turn its point from the north 
to the east, or in any other direction. But some genuises, of more 
sublime and reflective powers of mind, seizing upon these hints, at last 
applied these experiments to the wants of navigation, and constructed 
an instrument, by the help of which the mariner can now direct his 
course to distant lands through the vast and pathless ocean. 

In Consequence of the discovery of this instrument, the coasts of 
almost every land on the surface of the globe have been explored, and 
a regular intercourse opened up between the remotest regions of the 
earth. Without the help of this noble invention, America, in all pro* 
bability, would never have been discovered by the eastern nations — 
the vast continent of New-Holland — the numerous and interesting 
islands in the Indian and Pacific oceans — the isles of Japan, and other 
immense territories inhabited by human beings, would have remained 
as much unknown and unexplored as if they had never existed. And 
as the nations of Europe, and the western parts of Asia, were the sole 
depositaries of the records of revelation, they could never have con-^ 
veyed the blessings of salvation to remote countries, and to unknown 
tribes of mankind, of whose existence they were entirely ignorant.. 
Even although the whole terraqueous globe had been sketched out 
before them, in all its aspects and bearings, and ramifications of islands^ 
continents, seas, and oceans, and the moral and political state of every 
tribe of its inhabitants displayed to view — without a guide to direct 
their course through the billows of the ocean, they could have aflbrded 
no light and no relief to cheer the distant nations ^* who sit in darkness^ 
and in Uie shadow of death." Though the art of printing ha^ been 
invented ; though millions of Bibles were now prepared adeqwite to 
the supply of all the " kindreds of the heathen" — though ships in abun- 
dance were equipped for the enterprise, and thousands of missionaries 
ready to embark, and to devote their lives to the instruction of the 
pagan world— all would be of no avail — ^and the " salvation of God'* 
could never be proclaimed to the ends of the world, unless they had a 
mariner's compass to guide their course through the trackless ocean. 

In this invention, then, we behold a proof of the agency of Divine 
Providence in directing the eflbrta of human genius to subserve the 
most important desi^s, and contemplate a striking specimen of the» 



DieVi Chri^ian PhUoiopkM'. 178 

** manifold wisdom of God." When the pious and contempkti?e 
Israelite reflected on the declaration of the prophets, that *' the glory 
of Jehovah would be revealed, and that all flesh would see it together,'' 
from the state of the arts which then existed he must have felt many 
difficulties in forming a conception of the manner in which such pre- 
dictions could be realized. ** The great and wide sea," now termed 
the Mediterranean, formed the boundary of his view, beyond which he 
was unable to pfenetrate. Of the continents, and ** the isles afar off," 
and of the far more spacious oceans that lay between, he had no 
knowledge ; and how *' the ends of the earth" were to be reached, he 
could form no conception ; and, in the midst of his perplexing thoughts, 
he could find no satisfaction only in the firm belief that *< with God all 
things are possible." But now we are enabled not only to contem- 
plate the grand designs of the Divine economy, but the principal means 
by which they shall all in due time be accomplished, in consequence 
of the progress of science and art, and of their consecration to the 
rearing and extension of the Chnstian Church. 

The two inventions to which I have now adverted may, perhaps, be 
considered as among the most striking instances of the connection of 
human art with the objects of religion. But there are many other in- 
ventions which, at first view, do not appear to bear so near a relation 
to the progress of Christianity, and yet have an ultimate reference to 
some -of its grand and interesting objects. 

The Telescope. — ^We might be apt to think, on a slight view of 
the matter, that there can be no immediate relation between the grind- 
ing and polishing of an optic glass, and fitting two or more of them in 
a tube — and the enlargement of our views of the operation of the 
Eternal Mind. Tet the connection between these two objects, and 
the dependence of the latter upon the former, can be fairly demon- 
strated. The son of a spectacle-maker of Middleburg, in Holland, 
happening to amuse himself in his father's shop, by holding two glasses 
between his finger and his thumb, and varying their distance, perceived 
the weather-cock* of the church spire opposite to him, much l^ger than 
ordinary, and apparently much nearer, and turned upside down. This 
new wonder exercised the amazement of the father : he adjusted two 
glasses on a board, rendering them movable at pleasure ; and thus 
formed the first rude imitation of a perspective glass, by which distant 
objects are brought near to view. Galileo, a philosopher of Tuscany, 
hearing of the invention, 8et his mind to work in order to bring it to 
perfection. He fixed his glasses at the end of long organ pipes, and 
constructed a telescope, which he soon directed to different parts of the 
surrounding heavens. He discovered four moons revolving around 
the planet Jupiter — spots on the surface of the sun, and the rotation 
of that globe around its axis— mountains and vallevs in the moon — 
and numbers of fixed stars where scarcely one was visible to the naked 
eye. These discoveries were made about the year 1610, a short time 
after the first invention of the telescope. Since that period this instru- 
ment has passed through various degrees of improvement, and by 
means of it celestial wonders have been explored in the distant spaces 
of the universe, which, in former times, were altogether concealed from 
mortal view. By the help of telescopes, combined with the art of 
measuring the distances and magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, our 

16* 



174 Dick^i ChrUtian PhUoBopher. 

views of the grandeur of the Almighty, of the plenitude of His powerv 
and of the extent of His universal empire, are extended far beyoncF 
what cduld have been conceived in former ages. Our prospects of the 
range of the Divine operations are no longer confined within the limits 
of the world we inhabit, — we can now plainly perceive that the king- 
dom of God is not only '* an everlasting dominion," but that it extends 
through the unlimited regions of space, comprehending within its vast 
circumference thousands of suns, and ten thousands of worlds, all 
ranged in majestic order, at immense distances from one another, and 
all supported and governed ^'by Him who rides on the heaven of 
heavens," whose greatness is unsearchable, and whose understanding 
is infinite. 

The telescope has also demonstrated to us the literal truth of those 
Scriptural declarations which assert that the stars are *' innumerable." 
Before the invention of this instrument, not more than about a thousand 
fitars could be perceived by the unassisted eye in the clearest night. 
But this. invention has unfolded to view not only thousands, but hun- 
dreds of thousands, and millions of those bright luminaries, which lie 
dispersed in every direction throughout the boundless dimensions of 
space. And the higher the magnifying powers of the telescope are, 
the more numerous those celestial orbs appear; leaving us no room 
to doubt, that countless myriads more lie hid in the distant regions of 
creation, far beyond the reach of the finest glasses that can be con- 
structed by human skill, and which are known only to Him '^ who 
counts the number of the stars, and calls them by their names." 

In short, the telescope may be considered as serving the purpose of 
a vehicle for conveying us to (he distant regions of space. We would 
consider it as a wonderful achievement, could we transport ourselves 
two hundred thousand miles from the earth, in the direction of the 
moon, in order to take a nearer view of that celestial orb. But this 
instrument enables us to take a much nearer inspection of that planet, 
than if we had actually surmounted the force of gravitation, traversed 
the voids of space, and lefl the earth 230,000 miles 'behind us. For, 
supposing such a journey to be accomplished, we should still be ten 
thousand miles distant from the orb. But a telescope which magnifies 
objects 240 times, can carry our views within one thousand miles of 
the moon ; and a telescope, such as Dr. Herschel's 40 feet reflector, 
which magnifies 6,000 times, would enable us to view the mountains 
znd vales of the moon as if we were transported to a point about 40 
miles from her surface,^ We can vi<^w the magnificent system of the 

* Though the highest magnifying power of Dr. Herschel's large telescope 
tnras ifistimated at six thousand times, yet it does not appear that the doctor ever 
applied this power with success, when viewing the moon and the planets. The 
'deiicieiicy of light, when using so high a power, would render the view of these 
^objects i«is satisfkctorj than when viewed with a power of one or two thousand 
limes. SiXIl, it is quite certain, that if any portions of the moon's surface were 
viewed .Uvaough an instrument of such a power, they would appear as large, (but 
net nearly «o bright and distinct,) as if we were placed about 40 miles distant 
from that 'body. The enlargement of the angle of vision in this case, or the 
tipparent distance at which the moon would be contemplated, is found by divid* 
ing the mooH'« distance — 240,000 miles by 6000, the magnifying power of the 
telescope, which produces a quotient of 40-— the number of miles at which the 
moon would appear to be placed from the eye of the observer. Dr. Herschel 
appears to have wmd the highest power of lus telescopea only or chiefly when 



JDtci'j ChrUiian PkilosopKif'. 175 

planet Satuniy bj means of this instrument, as distinctly as if we had 
performed a journey of eight hundred millions of miles in the direction 
of that globe, which, at the rate of 60 miles an hour, would require a 
period of more than eighteen hundred years to accomplish. By the 
telescope, we can contemplate the region of the fixed stars, their 
arrangement into systems, and their immense numbers, with the same 
distinctness and amplitude of view as if we had actually taken a flight 
of ten hundred thousand millions of miles into those unexplored and 
unexplorable regions, which could not be accomplished in several mil- 
lions of years, though our motion were as rapid as a ball projected 
from a loaded cannon. We would justly consider it as a noble endow- 
ment for enabling us to take an extensive survey of the works of God, 
if we had the /acuity of transporting ourselves to such immense dis- 
tsuices from the sphere we now occupy ; but, by means of the tele- 
scopic tube, we may take nearly the same ample views of the dominions 
of tile Creator, without stirring a foot from ihe limits of our terrestrial 
abode. This instrument may therefore be considered as a providential 
gill, bestowed upon mankind, to serve, in the meantime, as a <empo- 
rary substitute for those powers of rapid flight with which the seraphim 
are endowed, and for those superior faculties of motion with which 
man himself may be invested when he arrives at the summit of moral 
perfection. 

The Microscope. — The microscope is another instrument, con- 
structed on similar principles, which has greatly expanded our views 
of the *^ manifold wisdom of €rod." This instrument, which discovers 
to us smatl objects invisible to the naked eye, was invented soon after 
the invention and improvement of the telescope. By means of this 
optical contrivance we perceive a variety of wonders in almost every 
object in the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms. We 
perceive that every particle of matter, however minute, has a deter- 
minate form — that the very scales of the skin of a haddock are all 
beautiAilly interwoven and variegated, like pieces of net-work, which 
no art can imitate — that the points of the prickles of vegetables, though 
magnified a thousand times, appear as sharp and well polished as to 
the naked eye — that every particle of the dust on the butterfly's wing 
is a beautiful and regularly-organized feather — that every hair of our 
bead is a hollow tube, with bulbs and roots, furnished with a variety 
of threads or tilaments — and that the pores in our skin, through which 
the sweat and perspiration flow, are so numerous and minute that a 
grain of sand would cover a hundred and twenty-five thousand of them. 
We perceive animated beings in certain liquids, so small, that fif\y 
thousand of them would not equal the size of a mite ; and yet each of 
these creatures is furnished with a mouth, eyes, stomach, blood-ves- 
sels, and other organs for the performance of animal functions. In a 
stagnant pool, which is covered with a greenish scum, during the sum- 
mer months, every drop of the water is found to be a world teeming 
with diousands of inhabitants. The mouldy substance which usually 
adheres to damp bodies exhibits a forest of trees and plants, where the 

viewing some very minute objects in the regions of the stars. The powers be 
generally used, and with which he made most of his discoveries, were 327, 460, 
754, 932, an4 oceaisionally 2010, 3168, and 6450, when inspecting double and 
treble stars, aad tke more distant nebuls. 



176 JXekU ChriiUan Phao$oph^* 

branchesy leaves^ and fruit can be plainly distinguished. In a wordf 
by this admirable instrument we behold the same Almighty Hand 
which rounded the spacious globe on which we live, and the huge 
masses of the planetary orbs, and directs them in their nq^id motions 
through the sky, employed, at the same moment, in rounding and 
polishing ten thousand minute transparent globes in the eye of a fly— 
and boring and arranging veins and arteries, and forming and clasping 
joints and claws, for the movements of a mite ! We thus learn the 
admirable and astonishing effects of the wisdom of God, and that the 
Divine care and benevolence are as much displayed in the construc- 
tion of the smallest insect, as in the elephant, or the whale, or in those 
pondj&roufl globes which roll around us in the sky. These, and thou- 
sands of other views which the microscope exhibits, would never have 
been displayed to the human mind, had they not been opened' up by 
this admirable invention. 

In fine, by means of .the two instruments to which I have now ad* 
verted, we behold Jehovah's empire extending to infinity on either 
hand* By the telescope we are presented with the most astonishing 
displays of His omnipoteneef in the immense number, the rapid motions, 
and the inconceivable magnitude of the celestial globes ; and, by the 
microscope, we behold, what is still more inconceivable, a display of 
His unsearchable wisdom in the Divine mechanism, by which a drop 
of water is peopled with mjrriads of inhabitants — a fact, which, were it 
not subject to ocular demonstration, would far exceed the limits of 
human conception or belief. We have thus the most striking and 
sensible evidence, that, firom the immeasurable luminaries of heaven, 
and from the loftiest seraph that stands before the throne of God, down 
to this lower world, and to the smallest microscopic animalcula that 
eludes the finest glass. He is every where present — and by His power, 
intelligence, and agency, animates, supports, and directs the whole ! 
Such views and contemplations naturally lead us to advert to the cha- 
racter of God as delineated by the sacred writers, that ** He is of great 
power, and mighty in strength ;'' that ^* His understanding is infinite ;" 
that *^ His works are wonderful ;" that '* His operations are unsearch- 
able, and past finding out ;" and they must excite the devout mind to 
join with fervor in the language of adoration and praise :— 

When thy amazing works, O God I 

My mental eye surveys, 
Transported «rit]^ the view, I'm lost 

In wonder, love, and praise ! 

Steam Navigation. — ^We might have been apt to suppose that the 
chemical experiments that were first made to demonstrate the force of 
steam^ as a mechanical agent, could have little relation to the objects 
of religion, or even to the comfort of human life and society. Yet it 
has now been applied to the impelling of ships and large boats along 
rivers and seas, in opposition to both wind and tide, and with a velo- 
city which, at an average, exceeds that of any other conveyance. We 
have no reason to believe that this invention has hitherto approximated 
to a state of perfection : it is yet in its infancy ; and may be suscep- 
tible of such improvements, both in point of expedition and of safety, 
as may render it the most comfortable and speedy conveyance betweea 



Dieh'B ChriMiian PkUoiopker. 177 

distant lands for transporting the volume of inspiration, and the heralds 
of the Gospel of peace to «' the ends of the earth." By the help of 
his compass the mariner is enabled to steer his course in the midst 
of the ocean, in the most cloudy; dajrs, and in the darkest nights, and 
to transport his vessel from one end of the world to another. It now 
only remains that navigation be rendered safe, uniform, and expeditious, 
and not dependent on adverse winds, or the currents of the ocean ; 
and perhaps the art of propelling vessels by the force of steam, when 
arrived at perfection, may effectuate those desirable purposes. Even 
at present, as the invention now stands, were a vessel fitted to encoun- 
ter the waves of the Atlantic, constructed of a proper figure and curva- 
ture, having a proper disposition of her wheels, and having such a 
description of fuel, as could be easily stowed, and in sufficient quan- 
tity for the voyage — at the rate of ten miles an hour, she could pass 
from the shores of Britain to the coast of America, in less than thirteen 
days ; — and even at eight miles an hour, the voyage could be com- 
pleted in little more than fifteen days ; so that intelligence might pass 
wad repass between the eastern lUid western continents within the space 
of a single month — ^a space of time very little more than was requisite, 
sixty years ago, for conveying intelligence between Glasgow and Lon- 
don. The greatest distance at which any two places on the globe Ue 
from each other is about 12,500 miles ; and, therefore, if a direct por- 
tion of water intervene between them, this space could be traversed in 
fifty-four or sixty days. And if the isthmus of Panama, which con- 
nects North and South America, and the isthmus Suez, which sepa- 
rates the Mediterranean from the Red Sea, were cut into wide and 
deep canals, (which we. have no doubt will be accomplished as soon as 
civilized nations have access to perform operations in these territories,) 
every country in the world could then be reached from Europe in 
nearly a direct line, or at most by a gentle curve, instead of the long, 
and dangerous, and circuitous route which must now be taken, in sail- 
ing the eastern parts of Asia, and the north-western shores of America* 
By this means eight or nine thousand miles of sailing would be saved 
in a voyage from England to Nootka Sound, or the Peninsula of Cali- 
fornia ; and more than six thousand miles in passing from London to 
Bombay in the East Indies ; and few places on the earth would be 
farther distant from each other by water than 15,000 miles, which 
space might be traversed, at the rate mentioned above, in a period 
fi:om sixty-two to seventy-seven days. ' 

But we have reason to believe, that when this invention, combined 
with other mechanical assistances, shall approximate nearer to perfec- 
tion, a much more rapid rate of motion will be effected ; and the advan- 
tages of this, in a religious, as well as in a commercial point of view, * 
may be easily appreciated ; especially at the present period, when the 
Christian world, now aroused from their slumbers, have formed the 
grand design of sending a Bible to every inhabitant of the globe ! 
When the empire of the prince of darkness shall be shaken throughout 
all its dependencies, apd the nations aroused to inquire after light, and 
liberty, and Divine knowledge, intelligence would dius be rapidly com- 
municated over every region, and between the most distant tribes. 
^^ Many would run to and fro, and knowledge would be increased." 
The ambassadors of the Redeemer, with the oracles of Heaven in 



178 Dkl^s Chrutian Phih$opher. 

their lujinds, and the words of salvation in their mouths, would quick! j 
be transported to everj clime, ** having the everlasting Gospel to 
preach to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people." ' 

Though we cannot assent to the justness of all Mr. Dick's con* 
elusions, his book is worthy of a serious perusal. To meditate upon 
the works of God, as diey exist in the natural world, and upon the 
displays of human skill in the various and useful inventions of man's 
ever active mind, must have a tendency, if directed in our contempla- 
tions by a suitable frame of mind, to fill us with wonder and amaze- 
ment at those manifestations of Almighty power, wisdom^ and good** 
ness. And more especially is this effect produced when the volume 
of Divine revelation pours its enlightening rays upon the understand- 
ing. For though we, who live under this bright sun of truth, may not 
need the * lesser light' to conduct us to * glory and immortality/ 
yet following the rays of that celestial luminary, we are enabled more 
accurately to survey the splendid mansion which has been fitted up for 
our residence — ^to estimate the value, the utility, and the beauty of its 
furniture — ^and to enjoy, with the more exquisite relish, the rich provi- 
sion which He has made for our support and comfort. Taking this 
light along with us, we may minutely examine all its apartments, 
analyze the materials of which it is composed, and survey, with pious 
awe and gratitude, the several rooms our heavenly Father has fitted 
up for our accommodation. 

This same bright luminary will, moreover, conduct us to a believing 
view of that mansion which ^ is eternal in the heavens,' as the future 
residence of the saints of the Most High God, and teach them that 
this is but their temporary home — a home, in which they are to fit 
themselves for that * temple not made with hands,' where there is 
* no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory 
of God doth enlighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.' And we 
certainly cannot breathe a more acceptable prayer into the ears of our 
common Father in heaven, than that all our readers may so use the 
gifls of an ever-bountiful Providence, while they dwell in this lower 
mansion, as to be fully prepared, by having their ' robes washed and 
made white in the blood of the Lamb,' to occupy some humble seat in 
that upper temple, * wl^ere there is fulness of joy, and pleasures fof 
evermore.' 



Memoin of Hamak Man. 179 



MEMOIRS OF HANNAH MORE. 

Mtmoira of ike Life and Corrupondfrnet of Mr$. Hannah More. 
By William Roberts, Esq. 2 vob. Svo. Harper and Brothers. 

No subject of biography has oceuned of late yean so calculated to 
iiccupy and eogross the atteiitioo» alike of the religious and literary 
world, as that of Hannah More; No author, who has attained an equal 
reputation, was ever more intimately connected, by purity of principleft, 
by evangelical labors, by the wide and salutary influence of her writ- 
ings,' with the one — and by the first oflbpiiags of her mind, the illus- 
triouB associates df her youth, and her early and briltiant reputation, 
wiAi the other. With both religion and literature riie has become 
identified. Her fine mind — ^her lofty talents — the energy and enthu- 
siasm of her poetical temperament, made her known and admired, 
when the brightest names that ever England knew were in the zenith 
of their fame ;-~-while that solemnity of character, which gradually 
weaned all the duergies of her mind from the mere firivolities of iina« 
gination, and which ev«stually led her to consecrate them, in all their 
vigor and freshness, to the service of her Maker, has made her after 
life one of the greatest monuments of good, and one of the most 
exemplary instances of the triumph of religion, we have on records- 
rendering those abilities, which otherwise would have proved merely 
omamenttd — or would have been considered to have best subserved 
their purpose had they been deemed adequate, in the flowery paths of 
fiction, 

* To point a moral, or adorn a taio— * 

■ 

a mighty means of assisting the moral advancement of the age— and 
a source of permanent*— ^f immortal benefit to her kind. \ 

Though but lately dead, the reputation of Hannah More had long 
assumed that durable form which it will be destined to retain in the 
estimation of posterity. Her rank among the leading characters of 
her age had been permanently assigned her by public opinion ; — and 
ere the close of her protracted life, she had enjoyed that, to an author, 
rarely accorded felicity, of knowing that her labors had been appro* 
ciated by the world as she wished them ; and that the future had no- 
thing of panegyric in store for her, which her cotemporaries had not 
freely awarded to the design and effect of her writings. 

No work, then, has been looked for with more anxiety, and with 
greater expectation by the public, for several years, than these me- 
nioirs. It was rightly deemed that her life, when it should be written, 
would contain more to interest the great mass of the community than 
any similar book which had beenpublished for a length of time. Those 
interested in the progress of the Gospel, and all who had derived benefit 
firom the pure precepts and Christian morality of her writings, longed 
to trace the causes which had led a mind so calcul«^ed to win the 
world^s proudest applause, and to' be captivated with its admiration — 
to forsake, the tempting paths of such glittering fame for die narrow 
road of the cross — and the more difficvdt, less inviting, and less daz- 
zling purpose of improving her sex and species, by the inculcation of 



180 Jtf(eiiiotf*« q/* Bannak Mart* ' 

the Divine morality of her Savior. A common and more solemn interest 
was likewise felt to know the effect of that eloquent teligion upon her 
own character, and the influence which those sacred principles, she so 
well described, had in comforting her own heart — in cheering her own 
solitary life— ^nd supporting her soul in the last moments of life. 

We presume to say, from a perusal of these volumes, that all who 
looked for them, no matter with what high raised hopes, will be gratified 
beyond their expectations, — not from any ability on the part of the 
biographer — ^for seldom have we seen a work where insipidity and 
incompetence, on the part of an editor, have had so much effect in 
marring the general interest. But the materials of which these vo- 
lumes are composed are beyond the reach of dullness ; and are rich 
beyond most that have been published in this century, in, vivid and 
authentic notices of the brilliant society of that Augustan age of British 
' literature — 

* When BeynolcU painted, and when Goldsmith song — ^ 



now, indeed, passed away for ever ; but which has left a record behind 
of more enduring and fascinating interest than any other intellectual 
era in the world. These volumes too contain a picture, one of the 
roost powerful and beautiful that ever was drawn, of the influence of 
religion in the nurture and direction of faculties of the highest ord^, 
and impart much invaluable information as to the state of society in 
England, when that society was in the incipient stages of the onward 
progress of heart amelioration which marks our era. We can see the 
light of knowledge — ^the blessings of education — ^brought into contact 
with the palpable darkness of intellect, and mark its early effect ; and, 
above all, we can see the elevated, the incalculable benefit, which one 
leading spirit, properly directed, may confer upon mankind — illuminat- 
ing its own age with a light reflected from the brightness of God's 
eternal principles, and kindling up a beacon flame to guide the wan- 
dering reason of other times, inextinguishable in its strength and im- 
mortal in its duration. 

Let us review, then, the life of this great author, and Christian lady. 
Though we cannot attempt any thing like a detailed account, yet the 
subject is so replete with instruction, and will present, as we advance, 
so much of elevated entertainment, that it cannot fail to be interesting. 

Hannah More, the youngest but one of five sisters, was bom in 
1745 — ^a memorable year in British domestic history. Jacob More, 
her father, was an educated man of good understanding, and strong 
natural sense. To his early instruction and assiduous pains we may 
attribute much of that stability of character which distinguished \m 
eminent daughter, — another lesson, if another were wanting to parents, 
of the vital importance with which every moment's ieittention is fraught 
with regard to the future character and destiny of a child. She early 
displayed a precocity of disposition ; and we are told, that ^ her nurse, 
a pious old woman, ,had lived in the family of Dryden, whose son she 
had attended in his last illness — and the inquisitive mind of the little 
Hannah was continually prompting her to ask for stories abput 
the poet;' an anecdote, which, though of little importance, is still 
curious, as evidencing the intellectual and imaginative cast of mind 
which could lead a child, at such an early age, to feel interested in the 



Memoirs of Hannah More, 181 

personal history of an emiioent poet. < From her father little Hannah 
acquired a knowledge of the Latin and French languages, beside an 
excellent English education. She early developed that taste for hold- 
ing the pen, which she afterward turned to such account. 

The following trait of her infancy strongly reminds us of a similar 
propensity told with so much hveliness by Madame D'Arblay of her- 
self So well has Wordsworth called 

* The child the father of Uie man.* 

* In her days of infancy, when she could possess herself of a scrap 
of paper, her delight was to scribble upon it some essay or poem, with 
sonde well-directed moral, which was afterward secreted in a dark 
comer where the servant kept her brushes and dusters. Her little 
sister, with whom she slept, was usually the repository of her nightly 
effusions ; who, in her zeal lest these compositions should be lost, 
would sometimes steal down to procure a light, and commit them to 
the first scmp of paper which she could find. Among the character- 
istic sports of Hannah's childhood, which their mother was fond of 
recording, we are told, that she was wont to make a carriage of a chair, 
and then to call her sisters to ride with her to London to see bishops 
and booksellers ; an intercourse which we shall hereafter show to have 
been realized. The greatest wish her imagination could frame, when 
her scraps of paper were exhausted, was, that she might one day be 
rich enough to have a whole quire to herself; and when, by her mo- 
ther's indulgence, the prize was obtained, it was soon filled with sup- 
positious letters to depraved characters, to reclaim them from their 

errors, and letters in return expressive of contrition and resolutions of 

amendment.' 

Respecting her adolescence few details are given. She made 
acquaintance of the elder Sheridan, (father of the statesman,) Ferguson 
the astronomer. Dr. Stonehouse, and Langhome the poet and trans- 
lator of Plutarch — ^between whom and the young poetess a corres- 
pondence commenced, of which several sprightly letters from Lang- 
home are given. Miss More's preference of a single hfe arose (a 
circumstance unknown until the publication of these volumes) from tin 
unprofitable attachment which she formed in her twenty-second year, 
and of which some curious particulars are given. As our limitib, how- 
ever, are confined, we must refer our readers for particulars to the 
work, page 28 et seq. Up to this period of her life, she had been 
engaged with her sisters in the management of an extensive and lucra. 
tive school in Bristol ; and though, at the age of seventeen, she had 
published her *• Search afler Happiness,' she was as yet but Uttie known, 
and comparatively obscure. 

We have now to follow her to the metropolis of England, mingling 
in its brightest and most intellectual circles— yet uns^uced by plea- 
sure, and unawed by timidity — ^there laying the foundation of her future 
fame, and ushering her first productions into the world, under the sur- 
veSlance, and cheered by the adnodration and applause of men, who 
stood the mightiest in their own age, and whose equals it would be 
difficult to find in any. 

As this period of her history is of great importance in its bearing 
upon her future life, and as it is of unrivalled interest in an abstract 

Vol. yi.—Jipril, 1836. 16 



182 Mftmoiri of Han$uth More. 

point of view, as a piece of literary hicttoiy, admitting us at once and hj- 
an untravelled path to the living socie^r which Boswell and D'Arblay 
have described so vividly, and of which impatieirt curiosity can never 
have details too copious, we will enlarge a little on it; giving our 
readers an idea of the treasures of such information which this Work 
cooiMuns. 

Hannah More was almost the last living link that bouQd our age 
wifii that time of unequalled greatness, when England could boast of 
men more distinguished in every walk of literature and art, than she 
had ever known before ; and fVom our knowledge of the capabilities of 
the human mind we may predict, than she will ever know again. 

The age of Burke and Johnson will ever have a peculiar attraction 
for subsequent times, extrinsic if not independent of the glories of the 
great men who adorned it. Other periods in English history — ^the age 
of Elizabeth, as represented by the genius of Shakspeare, of Johnson, 
of Bacon, of Cecil ; or that of Anne, illustrious by the victories of 
Marlborough, and the unequalled abilities of Pope and Addison! Swift, 
Bolingbroke, Berkeley, and a host of others — may contest with it in 
splendor of intellectual greatness,^ as they far exceed it in the magni- 
tude of political performance. But neither these nor any similar era 
in foreign history have established such a household acquaintance with 
the heart. The admiration of enthusiastic contemporaries has trans- 
mitted to us a thousand social recollections of the time, which have 
become organized in our memory with its history, and the zeal of 
affectionate biographers has preserved in a thousand enchanting pic- 
tures of still glowing freshness the character and enjoyments of its 
domestic life. In the faithful pages of Boswell, the great moralist of 
his time still lives to instruct and delight us. We can see the immortal 
Burke — ^whose indignant eloquence night after night made the old 
walls of St. Stephen's tremble with anathemas against colonial tyranny 
— unbend his giant mind in the playful expansion of the social hour ; 
we can still laugh at the pregnant jest of Goldsmith, admire the learn- 
ing of Person, and the acumen of Malone ; — a thousand ehamuBg 
traits of private life give a zest and interest to those imperishaUe 
labors of the head, which the luminaries <^ this age have transmitted 
to the admiration of posterity, in common with (in this repect) their 
less fortunate predecessors. We may hold the Spectator, as a classic^ 
superior to the Rambler ; and the poetry of Pope may have a higher 
fame than the simple strains of Goldsmith ; but of these men we know 
little beyond their writings. We have never seen them at the evening 
boardf and we cannot blend our admiration for the author with our 
feelings for the man. Hence the period of which we speak will never 
lose the greenness of its attractions, and will be still entwined in our 
admiratioh with the warmest feehngs of the heart. 

But even had it not this, its own pre-eminence, the age of Johnson 
will ever have a place in the Christian's regard, second only to that in 
which the darkness and terrors of prevailing superstition were braved 
to the death by the dauntless spirits of the early reformers, or to that 
in the time of our Puritan fathers — when Gospel truth was the regu- 
lator of opinion. Gospel purity the rule of life ; and when the doctrines 
of the New Testament attained perhaps a greater supremacy through- 
out a nation, than the world 1ms since seen. In spite of political 



1 



Miemoirs of Hannuh More, 1S3 

ftoi&gzcj and paity diatrectioiis, it was an age of publia moralitj ; and 
in matters of religion — if not of practical piety, at least of national' 
decency. The memorable labors of Wsslet and his enthusiastic 
comcyntars were in successftil operation: the neglected doctrines of 
regeneration and of practical holiness had awoke the slumbering echoei 
of the Gothic minsters of the establishment, and been thundered in the 
nation's ear from the highways and the fields : a spirit of inquiry, of 
searching truth, was abroad ; and the leading dignitaries and clergy of 
the Church had become sensible that the tenor of their lives and 
preaching alone must silence innovation: the dissenters had been 
stirred up^o fresh zeal and to greater holiness ; and among alt classes 
that mighty reaction was in progress, and may be traced in its incipient 
stage, which has placed the line of demarkation broad and deep be* 
tweea this age and all which have preceded it We are periiaps 
wandering from our subject ; but our remarks are incidental to it, and 
may be forgiven. The ways of God are plahi, and the instruments 
by which Me works not the favored ones of earth t and no force of 
prejudice can deny, and no entiiusiasm of predilection hasten iine con* 
viction, that John Wesley's preaching, the unexampled success which 
attended his labors, and the leavening bfluence of practical religion, 
preserved through good and evil report, and acting upon the public 
mind in a thousand rays of secret but surely operating influence, has 
been the main cause of the evangelical character of our time ; the 
satient principle to which may be traced, even more particularly in this 
country than in England, the greater sway which the principles and 
precepts of Christianity has in our generation as compared with all 
those which have preceded it. 

These remarks over, and we proceed to our subject. The society of 
£iondon, at the ixtAe Hannah More was introduced to it, was in the zenith 
of its excellence. Johnson, in the full plenitude of his reputation, was 
the oracle of every circle ; Burke, by the might and majesty of his own 
unrivalled powers, had won his well-contested way to the highest point 
in the pubHc estimation ; Garrick, who never was equalled for perfec- 
tion of dramatic representation and for truth of poetical conception, 

* Was stiU the star of g^iddy fashion^s throng ;' 

Sir Joshua Reynolds, the first portrait painter of his age, nightly at- 
tracted to his splendid residence all the leading characters of Ihe day ; 
Mrs. Montagu led the highest society by her magnificence, and cap- 
tivated it by her sprightly wit ; the brilliant genius of Sheridan was then 
in its early brightness ; and the amiable Percy, the accomplished Mrs. 
Chapone, so well known by her excellent letters on female education,, 
with many others, alike eminent in literature or poUtics, might be 
met from night to night in the saloons of that great metropoUsv or 
attracted the daily notice of society by their reputation in their re- 
spective spheres. It is npt therefore to be wondered at that a young 
female, sensitive, enthusiastic, and warm-l^arted, on being transferred 
at once from the seclusion of domestic life to society so select, and so 
^calculated to dazzle and fascinate the mind, should have been carried 
away by her impulses, and have resigned herself without thought and 
without hesitation to the pleasurable excitement that awaited her.— 
Accordingly we find Hannah More and her sisters indulging them- 



184 Memoirs of Hannah More. 

selves without restraiiit in all the gayeties of the great metropolis ; and 
their letters at this period bespeak the careless animation of their 
feelings. In these gay eii^sions, when the life of the future reformer 
of her aex was one ceaseless round of the pleasures of society, we can 
find but little trace of that stem morality which in after times distin- 
guished the *' Thoughts on the Manners of the Great.' Yet though her 
heart was as yet unregenerated, there was still that tinge of seriousness 
in her character, which, when left to its own free operation, soon brought 
back her wandering and captivated reason to the strict path of rectitude. 
This vein can at times be distinctly traced in her most sprightly effu- 
sions; and there can be no doubt that when the authoress of the 
successful ' Percy' was receiving the compliments of the great, the 
witty, aiiid the learned ; and when ' old Drury's walls' night after night 
were ringing forth applauses on her youthful genius, her heart, far from 
being satisfied with the empty honor, retired within itself trembling 
with misgivings ; and was but ill at ease beneath the whisperings of 
that still small voice of conscience which soon after made her renounce 
the theatre entirely, and with all her eloquence proscribe its pleasures. 
When in London Miss More principally resided in the house of Gar- 
rick, whose friendship for her was extreme. ' While there, her strong 
and imaginative mind, taking the natural direction of the place, laid 
the plan of her tragedy of Percy, which she finished in the course of 
the year ; and which was afterward produced with very great success, 
under Garrick's direction, at Covent Garden theatre. While in the 
house of this celebrated man, the time of Miss More Was spent in the 
ceaseless enjoyment of all the fashionable elegancies of the day ; and 
if we were to judge by the rules then, as still existing in the world, we 
might suppose that her lot was more highly favored, and her happiness 
the most enviable that could have fallen to the lot of youth. Young, 
fascinating, accomplished, and successful ; admired by those whose 
praise might well be deemed an honor : it speaks highly for the natural 
stability of her character that it did not degenerate into frivolity by the 
brilliant temptations of her situation. Indeed, with all her dissipation, 
she contrived to improve the high intellectual advantages which this 
state of intercourse with the London world afforded, with a diligence 
which few but herself could have blended with such incessant gayety. 
In the lively style which characterizes her correspondence at this time, 
she says, — 'Would you believe it? In the midst of all the pomps and 
vanities of this wicked town, I have taken it into my head to study like 
a dragon ; I read four or five hours every day, and wrote ten hours 
yesterday. How long this will last I do not know ; but I fear no 
longer than the bad weather.' 

We must insert the anecdote which follows, as giving a curious and 
lamentable picture of the Scriptural knowledge of* the great :' — 

* I wish you could see a picture Sir Joshua has just finished of the 
Prophet Samuel, on his being called. " The gaze of young astonish- 
ment'^ was never so beautifully expressed. Sir Joshua tells me that 
he is exceedingly mortified when he shows this picture to some of the 
great — they ask him who Samuel was ? I told him he must get some- 
body to make an Oratorio of Samuel, and then it would not be vulgar 
to confess they knew something of him. He said he was glad to find 
that I -was intimately acquainted with that devoted prophet.' 



M*moir9 of Hannah More* 18S 

The friendship which sahaated between Garriek and Miss More» 
as it was of the strongest and most affectionate desoriptiony was decid- 
edly beneficial to the young author in forming her taste ; and may we 
add, by opening her eyes to the folly and frivolity of the happinesa» 
arising from those pursuits, fh>m which all that great actor's celebrity 
and eminence arose. Garriek himself, in spite of his profession, as 
he was one of the toost gifted, so he was one of the most amiable men 
of his time. Johnson's memorable reproof to him, when, in the full 
tide suad triumph of his intoxicating popularity, he had taken the philo- 
sopher over his house and grounds, and shown him his statues, and 
pictures, and costly furniture — ^<Ah! Darid, David, what will all 
these avail thee on a death bed ?'— *would seem to have made an im- 
pression on him, which resulted, if not in conviction, at least in 
decided seriousness of mind. He was deeply sensible of the evils 
inseparable from a theatrical life ; and no man ever attained such an 
unapproachable eminence in his profession without being contaminated, 
for an instant, with its follies or its crimes. The feelings which such 
a woman as Hannah More ever entertained for his memory are a proof 
of this ; and the following decisive testimony to his character and pri- 
vate life will measure, in a religious mind, with the sorrow it cannot 
but feel for the perversion of such splendid talonts. It is, we believe,, 
niore than could be said of any other actor that ever flourished : — 

* I can never cease to remember, with affection and gratitude, b& 
warm, steady, and disinterested a friend ; and I can most truly bear 
this testimony to his memory, that I never witnessed, in any family, 
more decorum, propriety, and regularity than in his: where I never 
saw a cordt or even met (except in one instance) a person of his own 
profession at his table; of which Mrs. Garriek, by her elegance of 
taste, her correctness of manners, and very original turn of humor, waa 
the brightest ornament. All his pursuits and tastes were so decidedly 
intellectual, that it made the society, and the conversation which yptm 
always to be found in his circle, interesting and delightful.' 

The grief and sorrow felt by his friends at his death was sincere 
and universal ; and the following extract from a letter to Miss H. More 
from Mrs. Montagu, beautifully completes a picture, which it rejoices 
us to admire : — 

' There never was a time in which dear Mrs. Garrick's kind atten-^ 
tion v^ould not have made its impression ; but at this time it touches 
my heart in a degree not possible to be expressed. My bodily illnesB 
has been slight ; but for her loss, my loss, yours, the worM's, my 
mind has been sick indeed. Talents like Mr. Garrick's must ever 
excite the admiration. of mankind ; but possessed of so many virtues,, 
adorned by so many graces, diey are so endeared to one's adSectionsi 
so ingrafted in one's esteem, that the loss can never be repaired, nevet 
be foi^otten. Some consolation, however, arises from those excel- 
lencies whioh render our loss irreparable. His untainted morab in a 
situation exposed to temptation— «his perfect rectitude of conduct 
through &e whole course of his life — ^his amiable and kind domestic 
behavior— -his generosity and fidelity to his relations^-and his charity 
to the poor ami distressed, will ever be remembered by the age in 

16* 



186 Memoirt of Hannah More. 

which he lived, and recorded to ages to come. For some days after 
the sad event, I contemplated only the. great parts of his character, 
and my sorrow was deep ; but I hoped time would, in some degree, 
familiarize my mind with it ; but, alas ! so many little graces, so many 
pleasing qualities of it every moment present tbemselves to my recol- 
lection, that the grief is still new.' 

We have dwelt thus on Garrick's character, and Miss More's inti- 
macy with him, because that intimacy- had a most essential influence 
upon her future life ; and, as her biographer justly says, his death may 
be considered an era in her life. It separated that influence which 
bound her to the fascinating frivolities of a city life ; and it left her 
strong original propensities to their natural course^ It broke the spell 
which bound her |o the world ; and retreating more and more within 
herself, she began from that hour to apply her great powers to their 
proper use :— 

* She was not a person, however,' says Mr. Roberts, • to be actuated 
by sudden and overpowering impulses, or to be hurried into any adop- 
tion, especially one which implied a change of principle and habit, 
without much consideration both of the end and the means. From 
the death of Garrick to her retreat to Cowslip Green, an interval of 
about five years, she gradually proceeded in redeeming her time, and 
detaching herself from engagements, which, however agreeable to her 
taste and talents, kept her from answering the higher vocatioa which 
summoned her to the service of the soul,, and labors of love.' 

• After the death of Garrick, Miss More was forced, by the importu- 
nity of friends, to bring out a tragedy, cafied *• The Fatal Falsehood,' 
the greater part of which had been written under the inspection of her 
deceased friend. It met with considerable success, though the author, 
probably even then agitated with conscientious scruples, was, as her 
sister writes, ^ mighty indifferent about die matter.' For several years 
she continued to visit and spend several months with Mrs. Garrick, 
who had retired almost completely from the world ; and each time she 
became more and more weaned from the follies of society. She began 
to perceive that powers like hers were given for higher purposes than 
visiting, and evening parties ; and by assiduous reading of tlie best 
authors, she stored her mind with that religious knowledge afterward 
so conspicuous in her works. Before, then, we leave this glittering 
period of her life for the more useful and permanent labors by which 
she soon afler distinguished herself, we will cull for our readers some 
most interesting extracts from her correspondence relative to the indi- 
viduals eminent' in literary history, among whom she mingled. 

Among these Dr. Johnson,, of course, stands pre-eminent Boswell 
has ahready recordied several notices of her society ; and it was thought 
that nothing respecting this great man had escaped the diligence of hi» 
biographers. It was esteemed a miracle of industry when Crokec 
added two thousand five hundred notes to his late edition of Boswell» 
But these relics of a cotemporary and intimate of Johnson have 
unlocked the treasures of another age; and^like a legacy from the- 
past, disclose to us new facts and opiIuons,.fFesh^ original, and unrifled. 
Here, foF instance, is a fine illustration of Johnson's fine and correct^ 
AS well as his sturdy and sopnewhat unceremonious sense of mocality :^^ 



Mtmain of Hannah Mon. 187 

'XofMlofit 1760. 

^ I spent a very comfortable day yesterday with Miss Reynolds ; 
only Dr. Johnson, and Mrs. Williams^ and myself. He is in but poor 
health, but his mind has lost nothing of its vigor. He never opens his 
mouth but one learns something ; one is sure either of hearing a new 
idea, or an old one expressed in an original manner. We did not part 
till eleven. He scolded me heartily, as usual, when I differed from 
him in opinion ; and, as usual, laughed when I flattered him. I was 
very bold in combating some of his darling prejudices : nay, I ven- 
tured to defend one or two of the Puritans, whom I forced him to 
allow to be good men and good writers. He said, he was not angry 
with me -at aLll for liking Baxter — ^he liked him himself. ** But, then,^ 
said he, '^ Baxter was bred up in the establishment, and would have 
died in it if he could have got the living of Kidderminster. He was a 
very good man." Here he was wrong ; for Baxter was offered a 
bishopric afler the restoration. 

I never saw Johnson really angry with me but once ; and his dis- 
pleasure did him so much honor Qiat I loved him the better for it. I 
alluded rather flippantly, I fear, to some witty passage in *^ Tom 
Jones." He replied, **I am shocked to hear you quote from so 
vicious a book. I am sorry to hear you have read it ; a confession 
which no modest lady should ever make. I scarcely know a more 
corrupt work." I thanked him for his correction ; assured him I 
thought full as ill of it now as he did, and had only read it at an age 
when I was more subject to be caught by the wit than able to discern 
the mischief. Of Joseph Andrews I declared my decided abhorrence. 
He went so far as to refuse' to Fielding the great talents which are 
ascribed to him^ ahd broke out into a noble panegyric on his compe- 
titor Richardson ; who, he said, was as superior to him in talents as 
in virtue, and whom he pronounced to be the greatest genius that had 
shed its histre on this path of hterature^' 

It would reqmre, in our day, a social independence, even more pn- 
vileged than Johnson's, to reprove so pointedly, in a young lady of 
Hannah More's literary eminence,, the confession of having read the 
fashionable immorality of a popular novel ; yet every clergyman could 
tell how much it would be needed. 

Here is another characteristic anecdote^ which is i^ot the less amus- 
ing that it has if peared before :-— 

* London, 1781. 
* Mrs. B. having repeatedly desired Johnson to look over her new 
play of the *' Siege of Sinope" before it was acted, he always found 
means to evade it ; at last she pressed him so closdy that he actually 
refused to do it, and told her that she herself, by carefidly looking it 
over, would be able to see if there was any thing amiss as well as he 
could. *^ But, sir," said she^ ** I have no time. I have already so 
many irons in the Are." *^ Why^ then, madam," said he, (quite out of 
patience,} ** the hest thing I can advise you to do is to put your tragedy 
along wim your irons T' 

We add a note by the biographer to this passage,, exemplifying a 
highly honorable trait in Hannah More's character. It is said of Ro- 



188 Mcmoin of Hannah Mart* 

bert Hall, who possessed satirical powers of remarkable strengtht that 
he formed a similar resolution, and as rigidly preserved it, 

' In the course of the theatrical management of her friend David 
Garrick, he had irritated the feelings of the authoress here alluded to* 
by the rejection of her tragedy. The lady indulged her spleen in a 
novel, the express purpose of which was to ridicule and vilify the cha« 
racter of the manager. Miss H. More was prevailed upon to write a 
criticism on the work for the Gentleman's Magazine, which she per-» 
formed with much spirit and effect; but finding, as she declared, so 
much pleasure in the free indulgence of sarcastic humor, she resolved 
never again to trust herself with the use of such a weapon, and to this 
resolution she strictly adhered through the remainder of her life.' 

This portion of our subject is vety tempting ; but our space warns 
us not to enlarge. We shall, therefore, merely insert another anecdote 
or two, and refer our readers to the volumes for richer and more inte- 
resting — more varied, and more entertaining details — ^than could be 
met with, we are persuaded, in any other volume of our modem litera- 
ture. The following extract, in these times of temperance reform* 
must have a forcible effect. When so great a mind as Dr. Johnson's 
could find no security against intemperance, but in total abstinence, 
who will presume to gainsay its necessity ? / 

* London, 1782. 
« I dined very pleasantly one day last week at the Bishop of Ches- 
ter's. Johnson was there, and the bishop was very desirous to draw 
him out, as he wished to show him off to some of the company who 
had never seen him. He begged me to sit next hhn at dinner, and to 
devote myself to making him talk. To this endf I consented to talk 
more than became me, and our stratagem succeeded. You would have 
enjoyed seeing him take me by the hand in the middle of dinner, and 
repeat, with no small enthusiasm, many passages from the *' Fair Peni- 
tent," &c. I urged him to take a little wine. He replied, ** I can't 
drink a little^ child, therefore I never touch it. Abstinence is as easy 
to me as temperance would be difficult.' 

While on the subject of Dr. Johnsoii, we may refer the reader for 
some curious and interesting particulars respecting his last moments 
to p. 214, vol. i. A modem reviewer* has affected to doubt the authen* 
ticity of these fkcfs, and sneers at the possibility of the author of the 
*• prayers and Meditations' requiring, in his last moments, the aid of 
the at(Hiement But, while there is no reason to doubt the veracity of 
the document, those who have perased his works, or traced his life in 
Boswell's eulogistic narrative, will be able to estimate the extent of 
Johnson's experimental religion ; and could even the cynical reviewer 
have been admitted to one of the ' great sage's' midnight orgies, at the 
* Turk's Head,' he might be forced to admit, that even he, in spite of 
all the ostentatious morahty of his writings, would be found in his dy- 
ing moments very far from being independent of the atoning merits of 
his Savior. 

The other anecdote, of which we spoke, we must make room for. 

* London Quarterly Review, No. civ, p. 431. 



MemoirB of HamuA Mart. 189 

Lord Monboddo's bureting into tears is no more than any heart d* sen- 
sibility would accord to the exalted heroism it descrU>es ; and Hannah 
More pronounced no more than its just eulogium» when she said« * It 

W€U fubove poetry J 

* Hampton^ 1782. 
' The other morning the captain of one of Commodore Johnson's 
Dutch prizes breakfasted at Sir Charles Middleton's, and related the 
following little anecdote : — One day he went out of his own ship to 
dine on board another ; while he was there a storm arose, which in a 
short time made an entire wreck of his own ship, to which it was im- 
possible for him to return. He had left on board two little boys, one 
four, the other five years old, under the care of a poor black servant. 
The people struggled to get out of the sinking ship into a large boat ; 
and the poor black took his two little children, tied them into a bag, 
and put in a little pot of sweetmeats for themy slung them across his 
shoulder, and put them into the boat. The boat by this time was quite 
full. The black was stepping into it himself; but was told by the 
master there was no room for him, that either he or the children must 
perish ; for the weight of both would sink the boat The exalted 
heroic negro did not hesitate a moment. ** Very well," said he, **give 
my duty to my master ; and tell him I beg pardon for all my faults." 
And then — ^guess the rest — plunged to the bottom never to rise again 
till the sea shall give up her dead. I told it the. other day to Lord 
Monboddo, who fairly burst into tears. The greatest lady in this land 
wants me to make an elegy of it ; but it is above poetry.' 

We must now proceed to notice Hannah More's literary labors, not 
indeed so fully as we could wish, but so as to convey an idea of their 
magnitude and importance. Afler the successful representation of her 
Percy and Fatal Falsehood, her awakened mind became deeply con- 
vinced of the pernicious tendency of all stage exhibitions ; and this, 
once impressed upon her understanding* in spite alike of certainty of 
success and of strong predilection, she had strength of purpose to re- 
nounce for ever the tempting path of theatrical fame ; and lest her own 
example might prove an obstacle to her future usefulness, she pub- 
lished both her tragedies, with an admirably-written preface, in which 
she unanswerably denounced stage exhibitions and dramatic composi- 
tions as ^ the most profligate in the literature of the iror/d.' But, aware 
of her incompetency to stem the torrent of the age, she attempted, with 
the younger portion of society, to divert it into another and less hurtful 
channel. With this view she published, in 1782, her Sacred Dramas. 
This work had for its subjects, The finding of Moses, David and Go- 
liah, Belshazzar, and Daniel, and immediately attained a very great 
popularity. Though we cannot approve of the holy records of inspi- 
ration as subjects for the drama ; — and if dramatic literature in its 
ordinary forms is pernicious, it becomes a perversion little less than 
impious to apply to it the awful name pf sacred ; — still, the subject, 
guided by the pure and thoughtful genius of Hannah More, was sure 
not to be treated imjH'operly ; and on the state of society on which 
these Scripture dramas told ihey had a better effect than the vile trash 
of imagined nonsense, which constituted, in a great measure, the cur« 
rent literature of the day. 



190 JHemoirt of Hannmh Mart. 

Bis Btoii wtts one of Haimah More's mofit popular oftrtj prodiie- 
tions. It is a eulogistic and satirical Hudibrastic poem in defence of 
a literaiy society, which, with herself, numbered all the leading charac- 
ters of the day among its members ; and from which originated tlie 
celebrated term * blue stocking,' from Mr. Stillingfleet, £e learned, 
scientific naturalist, who used to attend Mrs. Yesey's, where its meet- 
ings were held, in hose of that remarkable color. As the subject and 
the author were at that time highly fashionable, this poem obtained 
general and warm praise. Johnson, in particular, from it gave her the 
name of the * best versificatrix in the English language ;' at all events 
its early celebrity has transferred its name, par excellence, to all lite- 
rary ladies ever since. 

We cannot pass over, at this period of Hannah More's history, a 
circumstance, which may be called a species of literary ana ; and is 
one of the most remarkable instances of ingratitude we can recollect. 
This is the story of Anne Yearsley, the celebrated poetical Milk- 
woman, or Lactilla, as she was called, in the poetical parlance of the 
day. Mr. Roberts thus describes the manner in which Miss More's 
acquaintance with her <;ommenced : — 

* During Hannah More's residence with her sisters at Bristol, in the 
summer of this year, 1784, an extraordinary object was presented to 
the benevolence of the family. Their cook informed them, that the 
person who called daily for the kitchen stuff, for the maintenance of 
ber pig, was, with her husband and several children, absolutely perish- 
ing with hunger; and drew such a picture of their distress as excited 
their liveliest compassion. They lost no time in endeavouring to 
rescue this wretched family, and soon discovered that the woman was 
possessed of extraordinary talents, which not even the last stage of 
famine and misery could repress. She produced several scraps of her 
poetry, in which were striking indications of genius. It immediately 
occurred to Miss H. More that this talent might be made the means 
of exciting a general interest in her behalf, and raising a fund to set 
her up in some creditable way of earning her subsistence. She accor- 
dingly took a great deal of pains in furnishing her with some of the 
common rules of writing, spelling, and composition ; and while the 
object of her charity was preparing, under her inspection, a small col- 
lection of poems, she was employing herself in writing statements of 
the case to all her friends of rank and fortune to bespeak subscrip- 
tions to this work, setting forth the probability of being enabled, after 
allowing the woman a certain portion of the sum raised, to apprentice 
out the children with the remainder. The generous zeal with which 
Miss H. More's friends seconded her wishes, soon produced a sum 
exceeding 600/., which was placed in the funds under the trusteeship 
of Mrs. Montagu and herself. During thirteen months her time was 
chiefly engrossed by her exertions in this woman's cause, in whose 
service, she has been .heard to say, she calculated, that, in transcribing 
and correcting her poems, and in letters of application, she had writ- 
ten more than a thousand pages.' 

Notwithstanding all this, the abandoned woman abused her bene- 
lactress in the most indefatigable and shameless manner, because i3ie 
would not place the large sum which she had collected for her chil- 



«M«motf» ^ AuiinA JIfcre. 191 

dren's benefit at ber disposal. Let MUw Here's words, in a letter to 
Mr. Pepys, tehninate die history,— 

> I am come to the postscript, without having found courage to tell 
you what I am sure you will hear with pain, at least it gives me infinite 
pain to write it — I mean the most open and notorious ingratitude of 
our milk woman. There is hardly a species of slander the poor un« 
happy creature does not propagate against me, in the most public 
manner, because I have called her a milk toomati, and because I have 
placed the money in the funds, instead of letting her spend it. I con- 
fess my weakness— it goes to my heart, not for my own sake, but for 
the sake of our common nature ; so much for my twwari feelings : as 
to my acivat resentment, I am trying to get a place for her husband, 
and am endeavouring to make up the sum I have raised for her to five 
hundred pounds. Do not let this harden ifour heart or mine against 
any future object. FaJLt bene per oot, is a beautiful maxim. 

One of her charges is, that I design to defraud her children of the 
money afler her death; and this to my face, the second time she saw 
me aher I came hither. Poor human nature! I could weep over 
thee !' 

She finally got the money into her hands, as she desired ; and some 
years afler, this vile woman attempted, in a new edition of her poems, 
to keep alive her slanders ; but the only notice this noble Christian 
lady took of it, will be found in the following extract fi*om a letter to 
Horace Walpole : — 

*' My old friend the milk woman has just brought out another new 
book, which you may possess for five shillings, and which she has 
advertised to be quite free fi*om my corruptions. She has prefixed to 
it twenty pages of scurrility. 

Do, dear sir, join me in sincere compassion, without one atom of 
resentment, (for that I solemnly protest is the state of my mind toward 
her,) for a human heart of such unaccountable depravity as to harbor 
such deep malice for two years, though she has gained her pointy and 
the money is settled to her wish. If I wanted to punish an enemy, it 
should be by fastening on him the trouble of constantly hating some- 
body.' 

Many years after, on learning that the poor creature was violently 
sick, we thus find the noble benefactress still, though covertly, wishing 
to do her good : — 

* I think very oflen with concern of poor Yearsley's situation. I 
could get a famous medicine which has done wonders, if you can 
contrive to find out if she would take it ; but I suppose the poor crea- 
ture would be afraid to take ainy thing of my recommending. Perhaps 

Mr. B could contrive to inquire without naming me. I should be 

happy to relieve her, and no time should be lost.' 

We must now pass over pages by the score of the most interesting 
and delightful correspondence to bring, within this limited article, some 
notice of the events, literary and personal, in Miss More's subsequent 
life. The solid virtue of her character had triumphed at last over the 
tempting frivolities of fashionable life, and the dangerous incense of 



I 
I 



192 Jtfemotrt of Hannah M&re. 

flattering admirers ; and except an annual visit to her old and attached 
friend, Mrs. Garrick, she constantly resided in the country, ardently 
devoted to its simple pleasures, and engaged in the composition of 
those great works, upon which rest her usefulness and her fame. 

About the year 17S5 she published a small poem on slavery, which 
we notice now as chiefly remarkable for the following prophetic lines, 
which she happily lived to see realized half a century nearly after thej 
were written : — 

' And now her Ydgh «ammiinon from abovt, 
Stamp'd with the holy chancten of love, # 

The meek^yed spirit w&vinj^ in her hand, 
Bieathes manamission o*er the reacued land. 

She tean the banner, stainM with blood and (ears, 
And, Ldkatt ! thy shining standard rears ; 
As the bright ensign*8 glory she displays, . ^ 

See pale OrpaxssioN faints beneath the blaze. 

The giant dies ! no more his frown appals. 
The chain, mntouch'd, drops off; the fetter falls : 
Astonish'd Echo tells the vocfd shore- 
Oppression's fallen, and davery is no more ! 

The dusky myriads crowd the sultry plain. 
And hail that Mekct long invoked in vain. 
Victorious power ! she bursts their two-fold bands, 
And FiJTH and Frhdom spring f^om Britain's hands ." 

The first of that great series of ethical works with which Hannah 
More's name is so gloriously identified, and which cannot be denied 
the praise of having contributed to the moral reformation of the age, 
was an anonymous pamphlet, called ' Thoughts on the Manners of the 
Great.' Here, at least, she showed, that if she had mingled in the 
follies of fashionable life, she had, like the bees of Hymettus^ extracted 
honey from what would have poisoned others. The work is written 
with a spirit of fearless and searching truth, not only displaying an 
intimate knowledge of the society she describes, but a chastened yet 
fervent zeal for the blessings of a neglected religion, which, couched 
in her own admirable style, had great power and effect. The work 
was most extensively read, and obtained for its author, who was soon 
discovered, the reputation of being one of the first moralists of the age. 

During the year 1789^ Miss More was herself enabled to withdraw, 
in a great measure, from the society which she had reproved so ably. 
Her sisters having acquired sufiUcient affluence to enable them to retire 
altogether into private life, they had built themselves a house in Bath^ 
between which and Hannah's cottage of Cowslip Green they spent the 
greatest portion of their time. The awful moral destitution of the 
neighboring peasantry, and more pc^cularly their children, made a 
powerful impression on her mind ; and, with characteristic ener^^ 
Miss More immediately set about improving it as far as lay in her 
power. Here originated that well-known school system, which after- 
ward, in spite of every opposition, was attended with such signal suc- 
cess and lasting benefit to the poor. Mr. Roberts gives ike following 
account of their first operations, which, at that time, may fairly be 
called, if we except those under tibe direction of Wesley, without par- 
rallel in the British empire : — 



of 

:i 



Jkfimotrf of HmmA JMm. 193 

* During the summer of the year 1791, the nsters resided altogether « 
at Cowslip Green ; and recognizing the hand of the Almighty in the 
success of their undertaking at Cheddar, they resolved upon attempting 
an extension of their benevolent efforts by setting forward other schools 
in the neighborhood. The difficulties they had to surmount appear in 
a regular and simple journal kept at the time. Some of the opulent 
burners, to ^hom they applied in making their extensive rounds, 
received them with civility ; but, upon opening their business, assured 
them that the novelties they were introducing would be the ruin of 
agriculture. Others, more favorably disposed, told them that they 
had read something about Sunday schools in the Bristol papers, and 
believed they might be very good things for keeping cluldren from 
robbing their orchards. And, upon the whole, as it was distinctly 
announced that no subscriptions would be called for, they were met 
by the farmers with less hostility than they had expected. Two mining 
villages, at the top of Mendip, particulariy attracted their attention. 
These were ignorant and depraved even beyond those of Cheddar,—- 
so ignorant as to apprehend a design to make money by carrying off 
their children for slaves* The place was considered as so ferocious, 
that no constable would venture there to execute his office ; and these 
bold instructresses were warned by their friends that they were bring* 
ing their own lives into danger. They were not, however, to be 
deterred by any consideration of personal danger ; and beginning to 
per<^eive who was helping them, by the solid improvement which was 
spreading around them, and particularly by an increasing attendance 
at Church, they did not rest till Aey had procured the same benefits 
for no less thsm ten parishes in the neighborhood where there were 
no resident clergymen. Their first step upon entering each parish 
was to obtain from the incumbent of the living his acquiescence in 
their interference, which was generally granted with alacrity ; and in a 
short time the number of cUldren under their instruction radier ex- 
ceeded twelve hundred.' 

We must add to this an extract from one of her own delightful let- 
ters, describing an annual dinner, which her generous bounty had pro* 
▼ided for her children : — 

* I have kept this scrawl some days for want of time to finish it — 
so busy have we been in preparing fbr a grand celebrity, distinguished 
by the pompous name of Jlfendtp Feaai; the range of hiUs you 
remember in this country ; on the top of which we yesterday gave a 
dinner of beef, and plum pudding, and cider, to our schools. There 
were iiot six hundred children ; for I would not admit the new schools, 
telling them they must be good for a year or two to be entitled to so . 
great a thing as a dinner. We had two tents pitched on the hill, our 
cloth was spread around, and we were enclosed in a fence, within 
which, in a circle, the children sat We all went in waggons ; and 
<»uTied a. large company of our own to carve for the children, who 
sung psalms very prettily in the intervals. Curiosity had drawn a 
^eat multitude for a country so thinly peopled : one wondered whence 
iiv;e thousand people, for that was the calculation, could come. I was 
irery uneasy at seeing this, lest it should disturb the decorum of the 
festivity. Almost all the clergy- of the neighborhood came ; and I 

Vol. Yh— April, 1836. 17 






194 JIUmtnr$ of HmmA Marc, 

desired a lepanUe wamaifiir to aay graee to each pwirii* At the con- 
elusion, I pennitted a general chorus of *^ God save the king*'* telling 
them I expected that loyalty should make a part of their religion* We 
all parted with the most perfect peace, having fed about nine hundred 
people for less than a fine dinner for twenty costs. The day was the 
finest imaginable ; and we got home safe, and I hope thankful, about \ 

eight miles in our waggons.' 

Hannah More, about this time, followed up her popular work on the 
Manners of the Great, by * Jin EBtimaie of the Religion dfthe Faskioi^ 
mhU Worlds* in which die increasing solemnity of her religious views 
is rendered apparent ; and she drew still more stronghr the broad line 
of demarkation between her former gay friends and the truly humble 
and devout Christian. In fact, this work could never have been writ- 
ton but by one who had drank at the wells of salvation, and deeply 
experienced the saving power of grace. No one can read her letters, 
and particularly an interesting fragment of her journal, at this time, 
without being convinced that her s6ul was in intimate communion with 
her Maker, and enjoying the blessed fruits of a close acquaintance 
with hw Savior. We regret that the history of her conversion is 
lost to the religious world, and that her biographer has neglected to 
give us explicit information on this all-important topic. To have been 
able to trace the incipient operations of grace upon a mind so * marked 
by Heaven'*— so richly endowed with the most splendid qualifications — 
so much exposed, by strength of genius, by brilliancy of imagination, 
by the applause of admiring friends, and the' fervency and vigor of her 
own social feelings, to be led astra/from that narrow path, which leads 
akme to heaven — would have been a lesson of instruction and import- 
ance to every inquiring Christian. A path, Qot genemlly the choice of 
proud but erring genius, where all the fascinating gifls that wean the 
heart from God must be crucified to the world, and sanctified by Divine 
grace, ere they can become rightly employed, or afford the heart those 
high and holy enjoyments which the w6rld * wots not of,' and which atone 
so purely and so effectually for the vain and unsubstantial pleasures of 
gayety and sin. With Hannah More every step of the road to heaven 
must have been attended with crosses severer, and more hard to bear, 
than those of ordinary endowments, and, in ordinary society, can have 
any knowledge of. We have seen her, in the spring-time of life, when 
a warm and untutored heart like hers would be most open to receive 
impressions, and liable to retain them, a loved and admired inmate in the 
splendid residence of Garrick — that all but worshipped idol of theatrical 
applause ; the crowned head of dramatic representatives ; and himself 
the god, and his house the temple of fashion's giddy idolatry. We 
V have seen her mingle with the great, the learned, the gay, the tiiought* 
less, caressed in every circle, and viewing the world and its enjoyw 
ments, when all was glowing with the rainbow tints of the • purple 
Ii|^t of youth ;' and yet, throughout the whole, we have seen her wean 
her heart gradually from all— nlropping, one by one, her unprofitable 
acquaintance — ^resigning the tempting applause of critics, and the ad- 
miration of friends, to cleave to the ways of righteousness — ^to dedi* 
cate herself and her powets to her Maker's cause. That we have not 
the records ef the gradual change by which a gracious Heaven re- - 
plviaed its own, will ever be a serious loss to those who love to trac% 



Mmmoim of Hannah Mor€. IM 



Ae diBttlnigs of God with bis chiMren, die fofl«wiiig Aititots fron her 
privrnte journal .utfidentiy attest :- 

« Sunday 9 Jan. 19, 1794. — Heard of the death of Mr* Gibbon the 
Ustoriiem, the calumniator of the despised Nazarene, the derider of 
Christianity. Awful dispensation! He too was my acquaintance. 
Lord, I bless thee, considering how much infide] acquaintance I have 
had, that my soul never came into their secret ! How many souls have 
his writings polluted ! Lord, preserve others from their contagion ! 

Sunday, Feb. 9. — ^This has been a hurrying week to me, in trying 
to raise money for the militia shoes ; so much writing and talking, that 
there has been little leisure for reading — ^little disposition for con- 
munion with God. ^When shall I gain more self possession ? When 
shall I be able to do business with the world, without catching ike 
spirit of the world ? Another friend dead, Richard Burke ! witty, elo- 
quent. How vain those talents without the one thing needful! I 
thank God that He hath shown me the vanity of genius, and given me 
a comparative deadness to reputation. Lord ! do thou increase it, till ' 
I become quite mortified to the world. A fresh subject for praise this 
night — my dear friend Wilberforce carried one clause of the slave bill. 
Lord ! hasten the time when true liberty, light, and knowledge 8hal( 
be difiused over the whole earth I' 

«'•• • « • • • • 

* July 13. — Prayed with some comfort ; but my mind was too much 

in other concerns. Have much business on my hands at this time ; 

and though it is all of a charitable and religions nature, (for I humbly 

design never to have any other,) yet still the detail of it draws away 

my soul and thoughts from God. When shall I be purified?' 

* September. — Confined this week with four days' headache ; aa 
unprofitable time — thoughts wandering — little communion with God. 
I see by every fresh trial that the time of sickness is seldom the sea- 
son for religious improvement. This great work should be done in 
health, or it will seldom be well done. for better preparation for 
flickness and death! 

Sunday^ September 14. — Cheddar — a very blessed day, between 
three and four hundred young and old; many seriously impressed. 
This has revived my hopes that God will enable us to cany on thia 
very extensive work, in spite of the heavy loss of our dear school 
mistress. May we be deeply t^iumbled under a sense of our own 
unworthiness for this work ! May thy glory, and the good of soub, 
be our only end ! We are nothing — have nothing — and of ourselves 
can do nothing. 

Sunday, September 21. — Stayed at home on account of the weather. 
Read and prayed with some degree of comfort, which was invaded by 
the reflection that we might have been doing good at the schoob. 
For some days have found more comfort in prayer, more warmth and 
fljnrit ; but still lamentably defective — ^above all in family prayer. 
What is read by others makes littie impression on me^- not so in ex- 
temporary prayer. Tet I have a fear that it is novelty, or curiosity, that 
eatches me. Lord, let my heart, and not my ear, be seized upon f 



196 MemoinoffHanmakMipre. 

* Swnday^ S^temker 28. — ^Wheo will mj heart be a fit tabernaclf^ 
for the Spirit of purity ? Have lately had much cominunion with God 
in the night I grow, I hope, more disposed to convert silence and 
solitude into seasons of prayer. I think, also, I fear death less. I 
am much tried by the temper of others. Lord, subdue my ovm evil 
tempers ! Let me constantly think of Him ^' who endured such con- 
tradiction of sinners against himself." 

I endeavor to convert my retirements to holy purposes at this time. 
I find much pleasure and profit in a course of Henri's exposition of 
St. Luke. It is now, I think, five years since I have been enabled, 
by the grace of God, in a good degree, to give up all human studies. 
I have not allowed myself to read any classic or pagan author for many 
years — I mean by myself. These are but small sacrifices that I am 
called to make. Give me grace, O God, for greater, if thou callest 
me to them ! I desire to ascribe it to thy grace that I have long since 
had much pleasure in serious books. I now willingly read little of 
which religion is not the subject. I do not glory in this, but am 
humbled by reflecting that constant use of the means has not made 
me more devout, and that my thoughts at other times are not more 
holy.' 

Any person reading these simple and solitary confessions of the 
heart must feel assured of the writer's devotion to one purpose, and be 
convinced that Hannah More's soul was the subject of deep and gra- 
cious visitations of the Holy Spirit. She is said to have objected to ^ 
Methodism ; but Wesley, or Nelson, or Walsh, or Fletcher, could not 
have written more pure unsophisticated Methodism than this. 

But a time was coming when England and mankind, in common 
cause, had need of all the minds of religious purity and unshaken firmness 
that could be found, to meet a storm, the like of which has never burst 
upon the world. The French revolution swept, like a torpado, over 
the stricken earth. There was a breaking up of old institutions, and 
a fearful rending of settled opinions, when that beautiful light of liberty, 
which at first dazzled all minds with its captivating brightness, fed by 
unholy passions and infamous desires, was turned into the maddening 
and consuming blaze of the fearful torch, with which revolution illumed 
the path of her frantic followers. Every mind, impressed with the 
importance of religious principles and of social order, rallied round the 
.menaced altar, and the tottering throne. Then, in tones and in writ- 
ings of unrivalled eloquence, the greatest political philosopher the world 
has ever known stood forth in defence of the holy institutions threat- 
ened with destruction. Then Robert Hall too, himself an ardent 
liberal, raised his energetic voice in solemn warning against the ad- 
vancing torrent of infidelity.. But Burke, and similar great men, could 
affect only the higher and middling classes of society. The deadly 
poison, with contagious strength and unseen power, was working upon 
the miiids of the great mass of the community, beyond the reach of 
ordinary exertions, and unaffected by the masterly arguments which 
swayed the reason of superior intelligences. In a female of delicate 
health, but of mind endowed for the occasion, was found the benefactor 
of mankind who supplied the antidote. Hannah More at once became 
the defender of her revered religion, at once the undaunted opponent 
of that turbulent and destructive anarchy, which was fast spreadinjg 



Mem^m ^ Hw mu K Mom. If7 

ftrmtg^ Ilie land* and sapping» in its progreM* all thai waa WHiod im 
momlity or sacrad in religion. The very suocosa of her ezertioiia to 
teaek Uie poor to read, seemed to impose upon her the necosstj of 
furmshiog &em useful matter to peruse to prevent their newly-acqauod 
education being perverted to the most insidious and effectual means of 
their moral destruction. * The friends of insurrection, infidelity^ and 
vice,' we are told, ^ carried their exertions so far as to load asses with 
their pernicious pamphlets, and to get them dropped, not only in cot-* 
tages and in highways, but into mines and coal pits.' Miss Moie'a 
plan was to defeat the enemy with his own tools ; and by supplying the 
lower orders with similar pamphlets of a sound moral and religious 
tendency, and of a more attractive style, to pre-occupy the ground, and 
nip the e^ in its i)ud. Mr. Roberts gives the following account of 
her design and its success :^— 

* The success of*' Tillage Politics" encouraged her to venture on a 
more extensive undertaking. This was to produce regularly every 
mondi three tracts, consisting of stories, ballads, and Sunday readings^ 
written in a lively and popular manner ; by these means she hoped to 
circulate religious knowledge as well as innocent entertainment, by 
way of counteraction to the poison which was continually flowing 
through the channel of vulgar, licentious, and seditious publications. 

When she considered the multitudes whose sole reading waa 
limited to those vicious performances, and that the temptation waa 
obtruded upon them in the streets, or invitingly hung out upon the wall, 
or from the window, she thought the evil she wished to oppose was so 
exceedingly diffused, as to justify her employing such remedial meana 
as were likely to become effectual, both by their simplicity and brevi^. 
Being aware that sermons, catechisms, and other articles of preceptive 
piety wer^ abundantly furnished by the excellent institutions already 
formed, she preferred what was novel and striking to what was merely 
didactic. As the school of Paine had been laboring to undermine, not 
only religious establishments, but good government, by the allurii^ 
vehicles of novels, storiesKand songs, she thought it right to fight them 
with their own weapons. As she had obsierved that, to bring dignitiea 
into contempt, and to render the clerical character odious, was a fa- 
vorite object with the enemy, her constant aim was to oppose it in 
the way she thought most likely to produce effect The Jacobinical 
writers had indeed used various arts to alienate the people from tho 
Church by undermining their respect for its ministers. She therefore 
scarcely ever produced a tract, in which it was not a part of her plan 
to introduce an exemplary parish priest. 

As she proposed to undersell the trash she meant to oppose, sh« 
found that the expense would prevent the possibility of her carrying on 
the scheme without a subscription ; and she no sooner published pro- 
posals of her plan than it was warmly taken up by the ^rise^t and best 
character^ in the country. 

The success surpassed her most sanguine expectations. . Two mil« 
lions of the publications were sold in Sie first year ; a circumstance, 
perhaps^ new in the annals of printiag. The exo^ it re^^Enied'to 
pcodttcot or to proeufo from othefs (for two or three friends and oim 
of her msters oct^uiionally assistedher) three traols every month, foiv 
three years, to organise the plan, and to keep up a conrespoodenoo 



198 JUemotr* of Hanmak Mor$. 

with die yarious committeeB (brmed in almost every part of the king- 
donif materially undermined her health ; and this ¥ra8 not the only 
sacrifice she made to her country and to humanity. She devoted to 
these labors that time which she might have employed in writings that 
would have greatly increiised her yearly income ; an increase wUch 
her large disbursements for her schools must have rendered expedient. 
Perceiving that they had not only made their way into kitchens and 
nurseries, but even into drawing rooms, she at length judged it ezpe* 
dient to have them handsomely printed in three volumes.' 

Miss More was soon called to know the efficacy of religion in 
supporting her under one of the most extraordinary and malevolent per- 
secutions with which the fame of any eminent individual was ever sought 
to be darkened. This was occasioned by her disinterested exertions, 
at a sacrifice both of money and of time, which few of her means and 
her talents would have afforded — to give education to the poor of an 
extensive and neglected district. It originated with the Rev. Mr. 
Bere, the curate of Blagdon^ a man who had once given his full consent 
and cordial assent to her measures, and even requested her to form a 
school in his parish ; and who seems to have had no other earthly mo- 
tive for his subsequent conduct than envy at the wonderful success 
which Miss More's institutions, and the exertions of her pious teacher* 
had in reforming the morals of a place once notoriously wicked. This 
miserable instrument in the hands of the wicked one once wrote to 
Miss More, thanking her for the good she had done in his parish, and 
informing her < that two sessions and two assizes are past, and a third 
of each nearly approaching, and neither a prosecutor nor prisoner, 
plaintiff or defendant, has this parish, once so notorious for crimes and 
utigation, supplied.' Yet while he bore this high and true testimony to 
the merits of her school, he was secretly endeavoring by every means in 
his power to suppress it ; and failing in his object covertly, he at length 
broke out into open enmity against the revered and virtuous lady, whose 
superior sanctity so annoyed him, assailing her with the most unheard- 
of calumnies, and stirring up against her every imaginable species of 
annoyance and persecution* Much of this necessarily defeated itselfl 
She was accused of disaflTection to the Church and king ; of being a 
Jacobin ; and many other things equally ridiculous and unwarrantable. 
For three years the wretched curate continued his persecution, until at 
length he attained his object The school was discontinued ; and the 
reverend conqueror attained as his just rewafd the disgraceful notoriety 
of success. Her biographer tells us, — ' Through all these attacks she 
preserved the dignity of silence ; and when advised by Lord-chancellor 
ijoughborough to prosecute the author of a scandalous pamphlet against 
her, she declared her resolution never, upon any provocation, to embark 
either in controversy or litigation — a passive pertinacity which tended 
notoriously to increase the effrontery of her assailants.' 

To a young clergyman in the neighborhood, who took an interest 
in her schools, she mus writes about this time,-^— 

* I think your definition of faith not an inaccurate one. Tour track 
seems to be right ; you have only to pursue it, — ^to press on, not to 
count yourself to have attained ; to trust in Christ and to preach him* 
aot as our redemfitQ^ only, for that would be a cheap way of being 



o/* Hmknah Mor$» 199 

religious, Imt as oor »anctifieation also. Frequent aod fervent prajer 
for a greater conformity to the will of God and a nearer likenees to 
Christ ; a self-denying and a self-renooncing spirit ; as much seal in 
holiness and good works as if we had no Baviof to trust to, with as 
absolute a trust in His merits and sacrifice as if we did nothing our* 
seWes; earnest supplications for His grace and for the illumination of 
His spirit — ^the^e seem to me to be a sort of general outline, in all 
which, however short we may come, yet by having it in our eye as the . 
great object of pursuit, the thoughts and desires of the heart being bent 
on the attainment, in spite of all our frequent failings and great defi- 
ciencies, we shall, I doubt not, find that the light within us will grow 
brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. Some spiritual difficulties 
and partial blindnesses obstruct, I doubt pot, every true believer, on 
his being first awakened, and greatly retard his progress. All this is 
necessary to keep us humble and lowly, that temper of mind which 
alone can enable us to resemble our gracious Redeemer. An humble, 
doubting soul, which casts all its care upon Him, is, I venture to think, 
far more acceptable to Ood than many who appear, to human eyes, to 
be more strong in faith and more confident in security.' 

Among the other opprobrious crimes laid to her charge at this stormy 
time, we need hardly wonder that the climax was added in calling her 
* a Iftethodist'— one who would read the extract above quoted would 
think with some justice, however little she might know it. Yet in an 
elaborate vindication of her character, addressed to the bishop of Bath 
and Wells, this excellent Christian thought proper to vindicate herself 
from the aspersion in the following words : — 

* As to connection with conventicles of any kind, I never had any* 
Had I been irregular, should I not have gone sometimes during my 
winter residence at Bath t6 Lady Huntingdon's chapel, a place of great 
occasional resort t Should I never have gone to some of Whitfield's or 
Wesley's tabernacles in London, where I have spent a long spring for 
near thirty years 1 Should I not have strayed now and then into some 
Methodist meeting in the country t Tet not one of these things have 
I ever done,' 

It is not our wish to comment on the * infirmities of the saints :' nor 
will we ofier a remark on the peculiar ' righteousness' of Miss More's 
religious views, which for. thirty years could keep her from * straying* 
to hear the Gospel preached by two eminent servants of God » because 
they were ^ irregular.' She appears to have been an eminently pious 
female, whose labors were abundantly owned of God in her day and 
generation. But we may well remark on the exalted testimony which 
the application of this term of reproach bears to the character of the 
early Methodists, when only those individuals who were signalized 
above their cotemporaries for unusual holiness of life, or zeal for 
religion, were honored with the high distinction of being stigmatized 
as ' a Methodist.' Happily religion is no longer such a rarity as to 
be marked by any distinctive epithet; but we cannot the less help 
thinking that it would have been more for Hannah More's credit, had 
she exclaimed, like the sainted Fletcher, on hearing that the Methodists 
wer^ a people who prayed all day and night, * Then, by the blessing of 



300 Mem9%r$ of Haummk M»r€* 

God, I will find them out ;' instead of taking merit to her diocesan for 
having carefully shunned them during thirty years* 

. In the year 1799 she published her third ethical w<»k, 'Strictures 
on Female Education,' one of the most able she has given to the 
world, in which she attacked the insidious evHs of fashionable life in 
their strongest hold, and put a climax to her former works on the same 
subject. This production met throughout thtt nation generally with 
high and merited encouragement. But in spite of its unquestioned 
excellence as a guide to a rational instruction, its solemn and decided 
religious tone, and die fervency with which the importance of the topic 
was urged, it turned against her many of those high Church dignitaries, 
her former friends, whose drowsy piety was alarmed at the prospect of 
any other road to heaven than the formal routine of the prayer book* 
Archdeacon Danbeny denounced it with great bitterness on this account, 
but Mrs. More never answered his strictures, and the criticism expired 
with the critic. In 1805 she published her celebrated work, ' Hints 
toward forming the Character of a young Princess,' which, with a pe* 
culiar reference to the Princess Charlotte, may be found of eminent 
advantage to every grade of life. The religion of this work also made 
it an object of attack with the skeptical and the lukewarm. The 
Edinburgh Review attacked Haimah More with extreme severity on itn 
account She treated the diatribe with her usual silence, and it i^ for* 
gotten. In 1809 was published her celebrated ' Ccelebs in search of 
a Wife,' one of the few works of fiction which we may feel safe in 
entirely commending. She made it for the same reason whichi com- 
posed the Sacred Dramas — the reading public was deluged with innu- 
merable novels, the greater part of which, formed of vicious sentiment 
and exaggerated passion, acted like a moral poison on the imaginations 
of the young. To counteract this as far as in her power was the desiga 
of Coelebs. Since fiction must be read, she sought to furnish a model 
which would not necessarily bring corruption in its train. She had per- 
haps another object in view, to furnish her own idea of a female cha- 
racter, perfectly qualified by education for the duties of life. -Brookes, 
a neglected, but one of the most elegant writers in the language, had 
long before written a novel, in which religion and moral principle were 
made to form the active impulses which should operate in life ; and 
which, principally owing to ^e pains which the venerable founder of 
Methodism took to make its excellencies known, is still extensively 
read and admired. Mrs* Mora's work became equally popular ; seve- 
ral large impressions were Soon sold in England, and not less thanr 
twelve in America on the first year of its publication. It falls not 
within our scope, at the present time, to pass a general opinion on this 
kind of reading. Unhappily such works as Coelebs and The Fool of 
Quality are not frequent Religioua novels we decidedly condemn. 
In 1811 was published her Treatise on Practical Piety. This is aa 
admirable and an evangelical work* She addressed it, to use her own 
words in the preface, * as a Christian who must die soon, to Christians 
who must die certainly.' As she approached the close of her life this 
excellent writer seemed to have become more and more estranged 
from earth, and more and more impressed with the vital necessity of 
religion. Accordingly few didactic works of this size enforce its duties 
in a clearer or more explicit manner ; all minor subjects and ceasi- 



Memdra of Hannah Mwre. 201 

deratiofid are forgotten in the earnestness and zeal widi which she 
presses the ' one thing needful.' Soon after this appeared her * Chris- 
tian Morals/ which may be considered as a part of the other ; and, in 
1815, the ' Essay on the Character and Practical Writings of St Paul,* 
generally cpnsidered, though at the age of seventy, as her chef^mwrt. 
In 1819, her last work, * Modem Sketches,' was published ; whieh for 
undiminished vigor of intellect may be well considered a prodigy : in 
it she gave that beautiful character of George III. which has been so 
generally admired. This catalogue of Hannah More's works, though 
it has necessarily consisted only of their names, will establish for their 
author in every mind a loftiness of reputation which would need no 
other praise. Who of this age can point to what they have done, and 
say they have exceeded her ? or, in future times, who will be looked to 
with more reverence for the earnestness and zeal with which great 
talents and opportunities were devoted to the cause of religion ? 

We must now bring this lengthened subject to a close. The greater 
part of the second volume is taken up with matter of high and deep 
interest to the religious reader ; but affording litde capable of being 
extracted in a notice like the present. During the remainder of her 
Me she was principally confined to her delightftil residence at Barley 
W^ood, engaged in the composition of those noble works which will 
remaip lasting monuments of her unequalled powers, and membrable 
exemplifications of the value of sanctified genius. One by one, the 
many friends, whose acquaintance shed such a brilliant light over the 
commencement of her career, dropt off, and led her at length alone-— 
the last of that * shining circle,' — a link that bound a present age with 
a past. Her sisters too, the loving and the loved, each after the 
other disappeared ; and in a ripe, yet green old age, Hannah More was 
lef^, the last of her era — ^the last of her race. Yet she found herself 
not alone in the world — ^a generation, trained to virtue by her precepts, 
had grown up in the nation ; and every grade bore its tribute of respect 
to the sage who had instructed them. The voice of grateful pmise 
was wafled to her solitary home from distant nations ; and her pro* 
gress to the tomb was watched, with anxious Solicitude, by thousands 
of sympathizing hearts, in every part of the world. Thus honored and 
thus regarded, her own conscience void of ofience, and her soul ripe 
for heaven, Hannah More sunk at last into the grave — ^more unani- 
mously revered — moumed->-*blessed in her life, her death, her labors, 
than perhaps any individual of the present century. 

Before we close our article, we eannot fulfil our intention without 
examining more particularly what were the peculiar merits of her cha- 
racter, and the influence of her writings. In an age of clashing inte- 
rests and rival reputations, the inquiry will be necessary. 

Hannah More was, in all respects, one of the most extraordinary 
women of her age. Placed by her talents in its foremost rank, and 
influencing Uiousands and tens of thousands by her writings, she has 
employed her ascendency to purposes the lofHest and the purest to 
which talent ever was consecrated — and saw her reward, even before 
her death, in the wide veneration which was attached to her name, and- 
in the marked and mighty influence of her writings, both in the old- 
world and in the new. 

What was that influence t There are surely shades in the beauty 



SOS Memai^i of Hannah JMort. 

•f inmiortality ; and that genius which isdireeted to die noUe end* 
of purifjring the heart, and elevating the understanding — ^to diaaemi- 
nating religion, and preparing the minds of the young and susceptible 
for the most important duties of this world, by sanctifying all impidse 
wuth jdie aim and object of a better— which tends, in fact, in the best 
of ways, to meliorate mankind, by giving the control of all action to 
religious principle— is certainly entitled to more lasting and grateful 
remembrance, than all the brilliant imaginings that ever were con- 
ceived. £nglish literature, in the nineteenth century, has been adorned 
with many illustrious females. In history, in fiction, in tragedy, in 
poetry, it has produced women^ worthy of all admiration, who have 
achieved the highest honors enchanted popularity could bestow, and 
attenced for ever the point, mooted by jealous and ungenerous school- 
inen, of the comparative inferiority of the female intellect Joanna 
Bailhe, Mrs. Opie, Mrs. Bray, Miss Edgeworth, Lucy Aitken, Mrs. 
Macauley, Mrs. Jamieson, Mrs. SomerviUe, and a host of others, have 
trod every walk of genius, and tried and exceUed in every grace of the^ 
wide diversity of taknt 

But, Hannah More, with a reputation and with powers equal to any 
of them, has a glory peculiarly and distinctly her own. After her first 
celebrated and successful essays, its brilliant fame, its assured sue* 
cess, its tempting faeility, allured not her strong mental powers intO' 
the fascinating walks of fictitious writing, or tl^e more solid and ele- 
gant paths of discursive literature. Her situation and her reflectrve 
mind had opened to her the new, interesting, and all-important field 
which lay before her, in the direction and proper culture of the female 
intellect ; and her resolution once taken, to that one purpose she bent 
all the energies of her capacious and extraordinary mind. Nothing 
ever tempted her from the execution of the severe and mighty duty die 
had imposed upon herself; while her eUgant taste and matured under-* 
standing gave a grace and charm to the literature she almost created, 
which rendered it unnecessary for its votaries ever to wander from its 
precincts in search of other beauties than its own. 

Religious writing had long been left in the hands of professors or 
enthusiasts ; and had been lamented, by the most eloquent of its advo- 
cates^ as being often the most dull and unreadable of all human com- 
positions. Hannah More, if she did not remove the reproach, has at 
least the eminent merit,, that it applies not to any of her productions. 
Religion indeed, or the duties connected with it, are the invariable sub- 
jects of her compositions. But her style has an unaffected ease, and 
an unconscious elegance, and is relieved by so many happy touches 
of genius — such various illustration — ^such gems of rare and accurate 
thought — and such an entire earnestness and simplicity, that it be* 
guiles us on from truth to instruction, and pleases, while it improves. 
One peculiar and marked feature, in all her ethical writings, is their 
dignity. She never forgets that she is talkmg to accountable beings 
of their immortal interests. There is throughout the severe tone of the 
mentor ; but the beautiful benignity of the goddess in disguise, takes 
all irksoineness from the attitude, and gives us the full benefit of 
authority, without the awe of being governed. There is likewise more 
depth of thought in her works than they seem to have received credit 
for. Her mind was richly stored witii the treasures of ancient and 



«iodem knoviedge ; and ber own strong intelleet soppKod a ridmaM 
of observation which continuallj strikes us. The trealise on Pncticsl 
Piety, and the Remarks on the Character of St. Paul, are works fiever 
surpassed in all these particulars, and which add to the treasures of the 
age. But ' Ccelebs' is the theatre where they are displayed to most 
advantage. In that charming novel will be found more practical wis- 
dom, and more of the philosophy of charaeter, and of the poetry of 
obsenration, than could be collected from all the religious fictions that 
ever were written. 

It has been justly and beautifully remarked, that the bright and 
proud intellectual pre-eminence of England and America was owing 
lo the long-continued influence of evangelical doctrines upon the 
national cb^racter. It is the case ; and if we were asked for the author 
whose writings are the best exemplification of that influence, we would 
point to Hannah More. She is the representative of the embodied 
evangelical character of her country. In her literary capacity, she 
seems a personification of that Spirit which lighteneth the nations-* 
some higher impulse appears to guide her pen — some holier inspira* 
lion to breathe upon her thoughts; and every production is distin* 
guished and sanctified by an evident purity of object and design, 
which the worldly wise have never known, and the worldly learned 
have never attained. 

In contradistinction to this view of Hannah More's literary charac- 
ter, a striking parallel will be found in one brilliant spirit, who, of 
another nation, and of far difierent principles, was the representative 
and the crowned queen of all that literature which is based upon human 
science alone. To couple the names of Hannah More and Madame 
do Stael migiht, at first view, seem to be preposteroQs ; buU taking 
each in the light in which we place them, as representing the pecul^ 
antiea of national genius, and their very dissimilarity will show a 
marked and useful comparison. Each had a mind capable of the 
highest flights ; and in each that mind was cultivated with the most 
assiduous care. The genius^of each found vent in many voluminous 
productions : but the one had all Europe for her admirers — the other, 
but a small portion of the English public for her readers. 

The author of \Gorinne' dazzled the world, not less by her melting 
imagination, than by her profound disquisitions on political philosophy. 
She analyzed the springs of national greatness, and investigated, with, 
the spirit of a legislator, the character of every people in Europe : and 
in her elegant chateau of Coppet, with her theatre, and her museum^ 
enjoying her unrivalled reputation, and receiving the homage of genius 
from every clime, she might be said to rule and regulate the whole 
republic of letters ; for to her sex none could refuse that distinction, 
which o&ers might have contested with her intellect. Tet, with regard 
to the peniianent utility of her writings — with regard to th6 advantage 
of her labors — ^to the lasting good she has eflected — ^how can she com- 
pare with the unpretending mistress of Barley Wood cottage ! Each 
had a mind of the first order. The one was filled with all the know- 
ledge of the world, and enjoyed the highest celebrity the world can 
give ; the other was rich in that knowledge which ms^eth wise unto 
. salvation, and consecrated it to the service of her Maker. Its 
fruit was gloriously manifested in the moral improvement, to a great 



304 Theological Ecfafcolum. 

degree, of her own sex, and will reap the nobler reward of proTing, for 
generations to come, of lasting benefit to .others ! 

Hew high has been the destiny of this gilded woman ! Honored in 
her own coantry by all ranks, from the monarch on the throne to the 
peasant in the cottage, who was instructed by her labors, she has given 
a new and lofly object to the education of her sex. Yet while, in all 
her works, she never forgot that they were females, she made it a 
severer duty always to remember that they were Christians; and 
advancing with that spirit of calm and high philanthropy, which has 
characterized the age, she has elevated religious literature above the 
warfare of sects, and the niceties of polemics, to an equal rank with 
every other, in a time when science and imagination have alike, 
achieved triumphs unknown to former periods. 

This slight, and not over-drawn sketch of her character, will explain 
how glad we are to have any connected view of Hannah More's life 
and labors ; and we accord the work before us the merit of saying, 
that of these it gives a faithful and most interesting picture— -^itended 
though it be, it wiU not be the less acceptable to the religious public 
here, where her instrumentality to good has not been less perceptible 
than in her own country. Had we space, it would have afforded as 
much gratification to have extracted much from this volume for otir 
readers. It is rich, beyond any work since the letter-writing age of 
Johnson, in correspondence with the most distinguished persons of her 
time ; many undeveloped treasures of characters, who will live to all 
time, are here brought to light, and confer an immense value on this 
work ; which, beside illustrating the life and labors of Miss More, sheds 
a thousand subsidiary lights upon her character from the fame of others, 
and admits us to the knowledge of a mind of such godlike usefulness, 
and to Uterary exertions of such unlimited excellence, that we never 
have been more delighted with the perusal of any publication. 

We understand that the eminent publishing house, who have get up 
this valuable work with such unusual beauty and cheapness, are about 
to issue a uniform edition of all Hannah More's works in a single 
volume* They could not, in their pecufiar line of business, confer a 
greater boon upon society at large ; and we trust that an ample sale 
of that and the present volumes will encourage 4hem in undertakings 
of sudi benefit jto the community. 

On the publication of the vohime' we have mentioned, we wiH, pro- 
bably, embrace such an appropriate opportunity of giving our eritieal 
opinion, at length, upon the writings ii Hannah More. 

Samubl Daly Lanotrkk. 



For the Methodift Magaxine, and Quarterly Review. 
THEOLOGICAL EDUCATION. 

[It will be perceived from the following remarks, that the nuttkor of 
the Essay disclaims having intended to plead for tl^eological ichooh^ 
but only to show the importance of theological ieonirii^. So w» 



Thtohgieal Education* 205 

understood him at the time we published the Essay, that is, in the ob* 
jectionable sense in which the author of the * Strictures' understands 
theological schools ; and hepce, as before observed, we think he mis- 
apprehended the doctrines of the Essay, and treated them with unne- 
cessary severity. Whatever may be the fate of the question, which 
has elicited so much warmth— and we shall neither enter into its 
discussion ourselves, not allow others to pursue it farther, either here 
or io the columns of the Advocate — ^we hope that the efforts making in 
&vor of theological and general education will be encouraged, and 
Crowned with success. 

We think, moreover, that the same justice which required us to 
^dmit the Strictures in our pages, requires the admission of the fol- 
lowing reply ; and also, that every writer or speaker has the right of 
explaining his own meaning, and especiaUy when he thinks himself 
misapprehended. 

For these reasons, though we have no wish to continue the contro* 
versy, and much regret the character it has assumed, we cannot deny 
to brother Sunderland the privilege of speaking for himself, especially 
as he has said nothing here in favor of the disputed question. No 
antagonist, therefore, must expect to be heard in its opposition.] 

Mr. Editor, — ^The * Strictures,* which appeared in the last number 
of your Magazine, written by David M. Reese, M. D., very forcibly 
i^mind me of a circumstance which occurred in the vicinity of Boston^ 
Mass., a few weeks ago. The Rev. Mr. T. was giving a public lec- 
ture on the subject of slavery ; and, in the course of his remarks, he 
was led to mention some prisons which are in certain parts of this 
country, and the purposes sdso for which they are used. Just at the 
moment, when the speaker mentioned the word * prisons,' an Irishman 
passed the door of the church, and the sound of * priaoru* breaking 
upon his ear, he immediately seized a brick-bat, and, rushing into the 
broad aisle of the church, threw it with tremendous violence at the 
speaker's head. As soon as the commotion had subsided a little, this 
true son of Erin was asked the reason which led him to commit such a 
rash act of violence. ^ Why,*^ said he, * and ye know that he was 
praiching against the 'prxBona of the hohj inqumiion ! and how could 
I bear all that r 

So it seems, tbe writer of those ' Strictures' has read the * Essay on 
Theological Education ;' and happening to find in it the phrase * theo- 
logical seminaries,' he takes fire in a moment, and, without waiting to 
ascertain my real object in referring to that kind of seminaries, he 
rushes upon the author with great force, and denounces, in unmeasured 
terms, his ^ truisms,' < oracular announcements,' *• high misdemeanors,' 
* egregious mistakes,' * impious sentiments,' and * heavenly-looking 
heresies !' And I candidly confess, that I should as soon have expected 
a brick-bat hurled at my head for preaching the simple truths of the 
Gospel, as that one could have been denounced in this way, merely for 
advocating the cause of tdAtcalion and inteUigence. But then, I con- 
sider the admission of those ^ Strictures' into the Magazine, as the 

V©L.VL— ^|wtl, 1835. 18 



206 Huoiogicai Education. 

highest evidence, perhaps, which the editor could give of his candor, 
and his willingness to have every thing said which those wished to say 
who w^e opposed to his views on the subject of theological seminaries i 
and I venture to add, that no one article was ever admitted before, into 
any one of our periodicals, which differed so widely from the editor's 
views, in some respects, at least ; as I am certain, that I never read 
one which was preceded and foUowed by so many editorial caveats and 
discli^imers, in which a solemn conviction is more than once expressed 
that the writer of those * Strictures' totally misapprehended the design 
of the Essay, and that his remarks, to a great extent, were * tohoUy 
uncalled for ^ and unjustifiably severe.^ Indeed, that the whole of those 
* Strictures' were ^ uncalled for,' to say nothing of the spirit and manner 
in which they are written, I believe every candid reader must have 
seen, who ever took the pains to read my Essay ; and for this obvious 
reason, I would not now take the trouble to write one word in reply, 
were it not that my silence might be construed, by some who never 
read the Essay, and who are not acquainted with its author, into a tacit 
admission that the charges are true, either in whole or in part, which 
are brought in those Strictures against it. But though, as I have 
stated before in the Advocate and Journal, that Essay was written 
without the most distant idea of its ever being made more public than 
when it was at first read to a few of my brethren in the ministry ; yet. 
I do not believe, that one person out of a thousand who ever perused 
it, has received the impression from any thing which he found in it, 
that it was the author's design to prove that men < may be made minis- 
ters, the same as men are made merchants and mechanics,' without 
being called by the Holy Ghost to this work.* Such a thought never 
entered my heart, till I found it in the Strictures of D. M« Reese, M. D. 
I never said this ; I never wrote it ; I never said nor wrote any thing 
which, by any honest rules of interpreting another's language, could 
be made to imply this ! Never ! And the reader shall see, presently, 
with what fairness, with what candor, with what Christian courtesy, 

* It 18 certainly not a little singalar, that the author of these Strictures should 
discover a kind of * anti-Christian,* anti-Methodistical, * beavenly-looking he- 
resy,* * in fact and form,* throughout that Essay, when no other reader ever even 
suspected it ! Beforo that unimportant production went to the press, it was read 
in the hearing of Dr. Fisk, president of the Wesleyan University \ Dr. Olin, 
president of lUndolph-Macon College ; Dr. Bangs, and the Rev. Messrs. Duri>in 
and Merritt, editors of the Christian Advocate and Journal; eaph of whom 
expressed his unqualified approbation of the doctrine advocated in it. And the 
reader already knows, that it was printed under the eye of Dr. Bangs, with 
whom the author had frequent conversations on the subject, at the time ; but he 
never discovered the * heavenly-looking heresy,* it seems, and this he positively 
declares in his preface to the * Strictures.* And Dr. Fisk, Dr. Olin, and the Rev. 
Mr. Merritt had the kindness to read that Essay themselves, immediately after it 
was printed, but before it was published ; and after doing so, each of tiiese 
respected brethren expressed his approbation of it to the author personally. — 
Now, though there is nothing in the Essay itself of any importance, otherwise 
than it is dmigned to set forth the claims of a most interesting subject ; yet I think 
I may suppose, without the imputation of vanity or presumption, thst, had there 
been any thing in the Essay even looking like * heresy,' some one of these bre- 
thren would have detected it. Were they not as competent of doing this as the 
writer of these Strictures? And even if the author had never been encouraged 
to lav it before the public by the approbation of such men in the Methodist Epi«. 
copal Church ; yet, sinee it has appeared in one of our principal periodicals, 
* their silence speaks aloud.* 



Theohgieal Edueaiian. 107 

the author ofihe Eswy on Theological Education is anailed in tboao 
< Strictures,' as a * h^acfitily'lookmg ib«reltc«' uttering ^ impiaui itrnti" 
mentM,^ — an * adversary to Methodum^* * qitarreUing with tke Di$eu 
pline^* anil dealing in ^ truUmSi* and * egregiom mtttoiet.' 

But, io defending the doctrine, however; which is advocated in that 
fissajr against this, assailant, I might, perhaps, as well confess, at the 
outset, that I shall labor under a manifest disadvantage in die view of 
all such (if any there be,) who may have been influenced by those 
Strictures to beUeve, that my views on the necessity of clerical inteUu 
genet are, in any respects, exceptionable ; forv however * heretical' and 
* impious' I may be in some of my * sentiments,' or however ^ egre* 
gious' some of my *• mistakes' may have been, I cannot feel myself at 
liberty to deal out these and similar epithets upon any one, who may 
differ from me in opinion, or however much it might seem to me that 
such a person deserved them. 

The object of the Essay, under notice, is thus expressed on the first 
and fifth pages : — // noas io show the imporianee of* a theological edu^ 
cation^ an education exfressly adapted to the work of preaching the 
Gospel ;' and in applying the subject to the Methodist £• Church, it is 
stated, page 6, distinelhi what is meant by a theological education .**— 
It is an education which may 9 in some senssj * qualify such to preach the 
Gospel^ AS THE M. £. Church bxlixvcs the Holt Spirit calls 

TO THIS work/ 

Here the reader will perceive, that in no equivocal language, and upon 
the very threshold of the subject, the Essay places the call from the 
Holy Spirit^ to the work of preaching the Gospel, before the education 
for which the author argues in the pages of the Essay which follow ! 

The Essay commences with referring to the genera/ sense which the 
great body of the Christian Church has entertained from the earliest ages, 
that some such eduoation wasnecessary ; and then comes the following 
inquiry, which fixes and determines the design of what follows : — 

* Why has the M. E. Church never made any provision for qualify- 
ing such to preach the Gospel, as she believes the Holy Spirit caUs to 
this work V - It is true, that a limited course of study is now generally 
required of persons on trial in our conferences, afler they have entered 
the ministry ; [that is, after they have joined ^e annual conference ;] 
but my inquiry is, why no kind of study, either hterary or theological, 
has ever been required, either in the Discipline or general usage of the 
AiethodiBt Church, as a requisite for persons, [such as are mentioned 
above; called of the Holy Spirit,'] before they commence in the actual 
service of God's • sanctuary V 

And then, to this very paragraph, it is added in a note, * that, since 
this Essay was written, a course of literary and theological study had 
been specified by two conferences, which all persons must have pur- 
sued before they could be admitted on trial in those bodies.' And then 
again, on a succeeding page, speaking of a society which had been 
formed in the New Eng. conference for the purpose of aiding suitable 
persons in obtaining a theological education, lest I mighty perhaps, be 
misunderstood by any one, I remark :— •(r^ * Observe, the object of 
the above-named society is not to make ministers^ but to assist such in 
preparing for the work of the missionary enterprise, either as preachers 
or teachers^ as God may coil to this work.^ And m another note, I 



208 Theological Education. 

add, again« * The object of this society is to assist such as God may 
call into the missionaiy field in obtaining an education suitable for this 
work !' 

Nor is there one paragraph, nor one sentence, nor one word, nor 
even one letter, nor comma, in that Essay, which, by any consistent 
rules of interpreting another's language, can be made to mean any 
thing contrary to the foregoing quotations. Its design was to show, in 
some small degree, the great importance of intelligence in the Chris- 
tian ministry, and some of the reasons why every minister of the Gos- 
pel should be ^ thoroughly furnished for his work :' it was not written 
to show what constitutes a call from the Holy Spirit to the work of the 
ministry, but to exhibit some of the responsibilities which such a call 
imposes upon all such as are favored with it. Why, the very title of 
the £ssay shows what the subject is upon which it is written : it is a 
theological education — such an education as gives one whom God has 
called to the work of the ministry a knowledge of his work, and the 
most appropriate means by which it may be accomplished. To show 
the importance of such an education, the Essay states, * that the Bible 
and ecclesiastical history unite in the testimony, that, by nearly every 
Christian Church, which has ever been distinguished by the I)ivine 
approbation, such an education has been considered an indispensable 
prerequisite for persons entering upon the duties of the Christian mi- 
nistry.' This is the first sentence which I find quoted in the * Stric- 
tures ;' and before David Meredith Reese, M. D., denied it, he should 
have quoted it correctly. However, he meets me with this very mo- 
dest argument — ' these broad and unqualified declarations are utterly 
unauthoi^zed and unfounded P It happens, however, that my state- 
ment is not unaualified, as the reader will see by looking at it ; and 
whether it is imerly unauthorized and unfounded or not, we shall see 
directly. 

It is not a little amusing, I confess, to observe with what a peculiar 
aptness this writer proceeds to say, that the education mentioned above 
is < clearly defined' in the Essay, so that its meaning * cannot be mis- 
understood ;' and then to prove, that by such an education the author 
meant ^ that a person should be made a minister in a *^ theological 
seminary," without a call from God ;' he skips over six or eight pages 
of the Essay, and brings forward three sentences firom Dr. Porter ! 
concerning which, he says, ^ These sentences, some in his oun words^ 
and some in the language of another, are here appealed to.' And then, 
after saying that some of them were my words, and quoting the sen- 
tences referred to, he adds, ' The foregoing extracts are quoted from 
the Rev. Dr. Porter-I' But it seems £at D. M. Reese, M. D., was 
so * zealous' to defend something, or to say something against the 
( egregious mistakes' of another, that he forgot to correct his own. 
And this is the way in which the writer begins his ' Strictures' on my 
Essay ! He first quotes a sentence from it incorrectly, which he de- 
nies, without offering one word in evidence of his assertions ! ' Then 
he quotes and transposes three sentences from Dr. porter, and, refer- 
ring them to the author of the Essay, says« ^ Some of them are in his 
own words !' And thus, it is proved, that the education contended for 
in the Essay is ' none other than a plea for " theological seminaries !" ' 
But is there a sentence in that Essay which goes to say, that > aa 



Theohgieal Eidueation. 200 

education expressly adapted to the work of preaehiiig the Gospel* can- 
not be obtained without a thec^ogical seminary t Not a word of itl 
The Essay contends for intelligence in the Gospel mimstry, that those 
whom God caU9 to the work of preaching the Gospel should be, accord- 
ing to God's direction, * thoroughly furnished' for this work. Bulliow 
this < thorough furnishing' can be best obtained ii another quesium alto- 
gether ; and one which is not discussed in that Essay ! Hence the 
very first inquiry made in the Essay is in the following words :— * But 
how can one teach what he himself has never learned T How can any 
one learn without study 1 And how can any one study to any good 
purpose, without having the necessary means and time at his com- 
mand V And the whole drift of the Essay, from the first to the last, 
was to show, thai persons, called of God to preach in the M. E. Church* 
should have the necessary means and time for study, before they are 
admitted on trial into our conferences ; for this most obvious reason^ 
that they cannot so well have them afterward. 

Now, reader, how do you suppose the author of the Strictures proves 
that I have committed an ' egregious mistake,' in saying that * the 
great proportion of the Church of God, from the earliest ages, have not 
difiered, materially, either among themselves, or from the Mohamme- 
dans, Jews, and even the heathen, as to their sense of the tmpoHancs 
of knowledge^ in all persons previously to their becoming ministers of 
religion V This statement, you will have observed, does not say, nor 
is said any where in the Essay, ^t all religious teachers, among the 
Mohammedans, Jews, and heathens, or even among Christians, have 
had the knowledge here spoken of; but all have, in some way or other, 
manifested their sense of its importance. 

But this statement, David M. Reese, M. D., meets with a sneer* 
and brands it with falsehood, as * utterly unauthorized and unfounded t' 
To prove this statement, I referred to the Bible, and quoted the chapter 
and verse ; but the author of the Strictures says, vl shall waive this 
reference !' I quoted an extract from Dr. Goodwin and Richard Wat> 
son to prove the truth of this statement; but David M. Reese, M. D., 
says, * This is too puerile to need refutation V I also referred to eccle* 
siastical history, to the theological schools established at Alexandrtat 
Cesarea, Antioch, Edessa, and a few other places ; I referred to Eu- 
sebius, to Clement of Alexandria, to Origen, and others, to prove what 
I had said ; but all these references, says this writer, < are equally irre** 
levant, as every reader of their history well understands !' . What a 
very convenient way this is to convict another of * egregious mistakes,' 
and statements which are * utterly untrue !' However, I shall wait till 
the author of those * Strictures' has read the histories and the works 
above named, before I attempt to offer any nfiore evidence of the truA 
of what I have said. 

And here my remarks in reference to those Strictures might have an 
end, were it not for a few odier * impious sentiments' and * high misde- 
meanors' and ^egregious mistakes,' preferred against me by this 
writer. 

1. To show witii what fairness he quotes other parts of my Essay, 
mad withal how correctly he represents my meaning, take the follow- 
ing :-^« He,' that is, the author of the Essay, « affirms, that John Wes- 
ley *^ was made a minister, precisely as the education societies make 

18» 



210 Theological Educ<Uion. 

ministers at the present day.'' ' Now the reader must obfierre, that 
this is quoted from my Essay, by this writer, expressly to prove, that 
Wesley, in my opinion, was made a minister by education merely^ 
without his being called of God ! But my Essay reads thus : — ' It is 
true, as Newton says, '^ JVone but He who made the world eon make a 
minister, ^^ But, then, who will pretend to say how God shall make 
His ministers ? The truth is, God will have His own way of calling 
t^nd filling men for the work of the Gospel ministry ; nor can there be 
any reasonable doubt but that He ordinarily does this through the 
instrumentality of His Church ; and it does not alter the case at all, 
whether suitable persons [that is, such as God calls,] are led into the 
Gospel field through an education society, or a quarterly or an annual 
conference. Was not Wesley caUed of God to preach ? and yet he 
was made a minister in the very same way, both by the Divine and 
human agencies^ precisely as the education societies [and annual con* 
ferences] make ministers at the present day.' 

Such, reader, is the very language, from which David M. Reese, 
M. D., attempts to show, that I said that neither tlie venerable Wesley^ 
nor any of lus coadjutors, were really called of God to preach the 
Gospel ! Such is the language of the Essay, from which this writer 
takes some dozen or fifteen words, to prove Uiat I affirm, that Wesley- 
was made a minister without his being called of God ! 

2. Look at the following extract, also, from the pen of him who 
sneers at some of the statements in the ' Essay on Theological Edu« 
cation,' as ' oracular announcements,' and ' egregious mistakes ;' who 
so dexterously ' waives all reference' to the Bible ui support of them, 
^ as forced' and far-fetched ; who deems ^ all reference' to profane and 
^cclesia6tical history ' as too puerile to need refutation.' This writer 
says, — 

' Indeed, the " superior learning and extraordinary qualifications^* 
of both the teachers and students of scholastic divinity, in any of the 
ancient or modem schools; Aove never been rendered a blessing to the 
Church, nor have any of them been distinguished for ministerial suc- 
cess or usefulness in the Church of God.' This is an * oracular 
announcement,' surely, with a witness I And before the writer stops 
to take breath, he adds : — ' It is a well-authenticated fact» that these 
very persons'— ^observe, these very persons whom he acknowledges 
have had * superior learning and extraordinary qualifications' — * have 
been the greatest drones in the Gospel ministry, idiers in the vineyard, 
usdess cumberers of the ground, who ever afflicted and cursed the 
Church.' 

But does not this writer affect to make us believe, throughout hi» 
*' Strictures,' that whoever has the call from the Holy Spirit, or^- in other 
words, the extraordinary qualifications of a minister of the Gospel, 
will be more or less useful 1 And does he not repeat it ever and over 
again, that the author of the Essay denies the extraordinary eidl and 
qualifications which all true ministers have ? And yet he here,, with 
one dash of his pen, utterly disfranchises thousands of such, whom h« 
himself afterward acknowledges God has called, both from ^ modern 
and ancient schools !' Really this exceeds the story of the two vipers, 
which, in a violent contest, swallowed each other entire^ so that nothing 
was left of either I 



Th$9logical Education. '211 

ft 

3. David M. Reese, M. D., saya, that, ^ in the minates of one of 
Wesley's earliest conferences, we have the following explicit declam- 
tion of his views on the subject of the call and quiiiJication$ for the 
ministry,' and which ' has been incorporated unchanged into our own 
book of Discipline.' (See Dis. ch« i, sec. 10.) In this statementt how- 
ever, there are two errors ; but, whether they are * impious,' or ' egre- 
gious,' or * heretical,' 1 leave the reader to judge. The writer says, 
the views of Wesley and our Church are given in the rule to which he 
refers on ^ the call and quoMficatians for the ministry ;' but there is not 
one word in this rule concerning the qualifications for the ministry. 
The rule lays down the evidences by which we are to judge of a per- 
son's call to the work, not of his qualifications ; and David M. Reese 
admits, that some are called who are not qualified, as we shall see in 
the sequel. But why is not this rule quoted correctly, in these Stric- 
tures 1 As it comes from the pen of this writer, it neither agrees with 
the Discipline, nor Wesley's minutes. 

4. The writer of these Strictures prefers one of his charges, it seems, 
against the lamented Richard Watson ; and, according to his showing, 
this eminent servant of God was guilty of an * egregious mistake,' also, 
if not of an ' impious sentiment,' in saying, that it appeared from some 
extracts which he quoted from the unpubhshed minutes of Wesley, that 
the venerable founder of Methodism had fully made up' his mind, at 
one time, to establish what he called a ^* seminary for laborers." * I 
referred to this fact simply to show the deep sense which Wesley 
always felt of the necessity of intelligence in the ministry, and that 
neither he nor any of his coadjutors were ever prejudiced, in any de- 
gree, ^Lgainst a ^ theological education ;' and, as farther evidence of 
this fact, I referred also to the ^ Wesleyan Theological Institution^ 
which has recently been established by the Wesleyan Methodists in 
£ngland. I observed, * A writer in the Wesleyan Meth. Mag. for May 
last, speaking on tliis .subject, says : — ^^ The most prominent feature 
of the proposed institution, and that which forces itself upon the atten* 
tion, is, that, so far from its involving any thing new in Methodism, 
which might endanger its great first principles, the design itself is de- 
cidedly Wesleyan. By an extract from the unpublished minutes of 
conference, quoted by Mr. Watson, it appears to be clearly proved, 
that Mr. Wesley had, on on/e occasion, fully made up his mind to esta* 
blish what he termed a ^^ seminary for laborers ;" and that his design 
failed to be carried into effect, simply because it appeared at that time 
impracticable to find a tutor competent to conduct such an establish- 
ment." ' This statement from the Wesleyan Mag. David M, Reese, 
M. D., flatly denies ; and says — * I maintain, that the idea of theologi- 
cad. seminaries u something new in Methodism, and that it is an inno- 
vation upon the original plan of Mr. Wesley !' But which the reader 
will believe, whether the author of those Strictures, or Richard Watson 
and the Wesleyan Meth. Mag., it is not necessary for me to stop here 
to inquire. 

* With res^>ect to Mr. Wesley's '* seminary for laborers," it will not 
be pretended,' says this writer, ' that, had it been established, it would 
have borne any the least resemblance to a ^^ theological seminary," 
such as that contended for in the Essay.' But the Essay does not 
contend for a theological seminary of any kind ; the Essay contends 



212 Thi^hgical Eduetdum, 

for intelligence in the Christian ministry, for an * education expressly 
adapted to the work of preaching the Gospel ;' and all that is said in 
the £ssay concerning theological seminaries is said incidentally, and 
by way of iUustrating the main object of the writer ; and, as an evi- 
dence of this, it may be mentioned that the extract from the Wesleyan 
Mag., and the one from Dr. Porter, were incorporated into the Essay 
more than three months after it was written. And yet David M. Reese, 
M. D., seizes on three mangled sentences from the language of Dr. 
Porter to prove that the whole Essay is * none other than a plea for 
theological seminaries ;' and the remarks of Dr. Porter, firom which I 
quoted, were never designed as a ^ plea for seminaries,' particularly, 
of any kind, but they were written * on the cultivation of spiritual habits, 
and progress in study !' 

6. It is really ludicrous to observe how this writer argues about 
< educating men for the ministry, and t» the ministry.' What ^e 
Essay means by educating men for the work of the Christian ministry 
has adready been shown ; it is the affording * such as the Church be- 
lieves the Holy Spirit calls to this work the necessary means and time 
for study.' The knowledge which all such ought to have of the nature 
of their calling, and of the Holy Scriptures, I still say, in my opinion, 
is indispensable ; and Wesley himself says this. He declares, in no 
very obscure language, that ' no. one can take one rigkt step without it ,*' 
that without this knowledge * there can be no hope that one will dis* 
charge his office well,' or * acquit himself faithftilly of his trust.' 

But this writer finally admits, that men may be ' educated in the 
ministry ;' he admits that the Wesleyan Methodists have now a * semi* 
nary for educating men in the ministry ;' and he farther admits, that, 
possibly, it may be well for the Methodists in this country to do dome- 
thing * by and by' for the purpose of * educating young men,' not for 
the ministry, but * in it.' Very well ; and when young men are edu- 
cated in the ministry, pray, what will they be educated for ? What 
will be the motive in giving them an education ? Will it be to fit them 
for the work of the ministry, or for something else? ^ O,' says the 
writer of the Strictures, * their education, in this case, will follow their 
call to the ministry, and not precede it ; their education, in this case, 
will not be substituted for a call from the Holy Spirit.' Very good ; 
but who ever supposed that an education should be considered as a 
call from God? Not the author <^that Essay. I never said this, nor 
any thing which could be honestly made to imply it ! Never I But I 
will allow this writer all the credit that he could desire for his * bridf 
Strictures,' — which, by the way, however, are longer than the Essays 
upon which they are written, — while he argues in this way against an 
education for the ministry, possibly, he did dream that such * Strictures' 
from his pen would be deemed ' too puerile to need refutation !' 

6. In the Essay it is stated, that * a person's being moved by the 
Holy Ghosi to call sinners to repentance, does not quaitfy him, in every 
sense of the word, for the most successful performance of this work.' 
For this statement, howev^, the writer of die Strictures manifests no 
sort of fellowship. Hence he says,-*-* if tiiis sentence means to recog- 
nise a Divine call to the ministry at all, it would leave us to infer,^that 
he who is thus moved^ is to understand himself to be called of God to 
preach, not now, but by and by.' Then David M. Reese believes. 



TlufdogieQl Education. 213 

when one is called of Qod to preachy that caU qHoUjioo him* in every 
sense of the word, for this work ! So much to the credit of * zeal for 
the Church !' 

Now, compare the ahove with another part of these Stricturetey where 
it is said, ' If any of our conferences had a list of junior preachers in 
reserve, jW whom ihert vfos no field of labor ^^ they should be pat upon 
' a course of study!' Alas ! what will not a man say out of *zeal* 
against 'heretics' and 'theological seminaries!' What! does this 
writer suppose, as he tells us here, that God calls men to preach for 
whom there ' are no fi^ldi of labor V Must ' such as are quaUfitd^ in 
every sense of the wordj'' to preach the Gospel, by their call to the work, 
wait for a field of labor, when more than two thirds of the world are 
destitute of the Gospel. 

And look, again, at the following : — ' If ^ny of our junior preachers 
who apply unsuccessfully for admission into the itinerancy, because 
there are no circuits or stations, should go, as they ought to cfo, to any 
of our seminaries or colleges for the improvement of their minds in 
literature and theology ^ would not tlie Church sustain them, and rejoice 
in it ?' No ! Never ! Never ! God forbid, that the Church should 
ever undertake to improve the minds of such as are already ' qualified 
to preach the Gospel, in every sense of the word^ by sending them to a 
seminary or college ! And, beside, how could our young men be taught 
the knowledge of theology in any of our seminaries or colleges, which 
are purely literary % For, says this very writer, • if any one of our 
infant colleges were known to be not purely literary ^ or suspected of 
deteriorating into a theological school, it would be impossible to avert 
from it swift and certain destruction ; for it would be utterly abandoned 
by the Church.' And but a little before he tells us, nevertheless, that, 
' i£ s6me of our junior preachers were to go, as they ought to do,' in 
certain cas^s, ' to our purely literary seminaries, to be taught a know- 
ledge of theology, the Church would sustain them, and rejoice in it !^ 
Such, reader, is the reasoning of one, who charges another with utter* 
ing ' truisms^' and < egregious mistakes.' 

7. The following sentence from the Essay is quoted by this writer, 
and from which he labors hard to distort it into slander against the 
Methodist E. Church : — * Why has our Church never made any provi- 
sion for qualifying such to preach the Gospel as she believes the Holy 
Ghost calls to thds work V Now, here Uie reader will perceive, my 
own #ords are qudted by this writer, in which it is distinctly affirmed 
that the education on which the Essay is written was designed, not as 
a substitute for a call to the ' ministry, but for the farther qualification 
of such as the Church believes the Holy Spirit calls to this work !' 
How, then, I might ask, in die exercise of common honesty, could any 
one take the Essay, which was written upon this very question, and 
quote these words, and at the same time attempt to wrest a meaning 
from them which they never were intended to convey ! Nay ; a mean- 
ing which they cannot be made to convey, without doing violence to * 
all consistent rules of interpretation! 

I need not here stop to show that our Church never has made any 
such provision as is here spoken of, in opposition to the assertions' of 
this writer. This is fully and sufficiently done by the editor, in a pre- 
vious number of this Magazine ; but I believe, that every reader of 



214 Tkeohgicid Educaiwn* 

this work will say, &at I am called upon to justify myself against die 
* high misdemeanor' which is here laid to my chaijge. 

The paragraph in my Essay, which contains the * libellous' sentence, 
reads thus : — *' Now it is very true, that the history of the M. E. 
Church* as well as the histcny of the Wesleyan Methodists in Eng- 
land, will show, that the Methodists as a people, have never been »o 
very dndiffereni in the cause of genercU literature and edueaiwn, as 
many have imagined. The schools established in the British connec- 
tion, as well as the fourteen ieminariee and six coUegea^ established by 
them in the United States, will show this ; and never, perhaps, was the 
jnro^ect brighter for the cause of education among us, as a people^ 
Am it is at the present day. But has the M. £• Church any usage 
or practice, in any department of her membership, from which one 
might be led to infer that an education of any kind is indispensably 
necessary, before 6ne can be Ucensed as a preacher of the Gospel V 
And to show, what I supposed might be considered one probable rea* 
son, why no provision had been made. by this Church for affording a 
suitable education to such as she believes the Holy Ghost calls to the 
work of the Gospel ministry, and, consequently, one reason why we 
have no rule in our Discipline for the usage or practice above noticed, 
I said : — * No satisfactory answer to this inquiry can be given from the 
fact, that the Methodist Church, from the first, has -not produced some 
of the most eminent men for science and theological learning. This 
the world knows, or ought to know, she has done. And, by the way, 
perhaps this very fact, may be one considerable reason why the Metho- 
dists, as a Church, have never felt more than they have the importance 
of some kind of a theological education, in all such as seek her appro- 
bation as ministers of the Gospel. We know, that a few have strug- 
gled into the lights of science and education, without the direction or 
any kind of assistance from the Church ; and so we have unconsciously 
imbibed the idea^ that nothing is either due, or ought to be expected 
from the Church ;' and hence we have no rule in our Discipline which 
makes education of any kind a preliminary to one's being licensed to 
preach the Gospel, and go out into the world, *in the awful and 
responsible office of a public teacher of Christian theology.' 

Now, gentle reader, it is concerning the selfrsame language, which 
you have just read, and the views therein expressed, that David M. 
Reese exclaims — *• What a picture is here drawn of our Church and 
ministry, by this junior preacher ! We marvel that he was n<9t con- 
scious of the gross injustice he has thus done to his own Church, and 
to his senior brethren !' Alas ! for the author of that fugitive Essay ! 
How could he be so stupid as not to perceive the gross injustice he 
was doing the M. £• Church, when he declares, that the history of the 
Methodists in both hemispheres will show, that they have never been 
indifferent in the cause of general literature and education! And 
what a picture he gives of our ministry, when he declares, that some 
of them have been the most eminent for their attainments in science 
and theological learning ! How * libellous !' ^ Here then,' says the 
author of these Strictures, * here then, we take occasion to say, that 
this Vkols representation is as unjust as it is wnkindP And then 
he begins a tedious course of reasoning to show, that there is a rule 
some where in the Disciplme which requires an education in persons, 
before they can be licensed to preach ! 



I%tologieai Edueatiou. * 215 

* Soph are the elondt which mtoreept the liyht, 
Himg o*er the ejes, and Uoat the moral nght!' 

But suppose I were to allow, that the rule to which this writer refers^ 
uid which says that one, must have ^ gifU^ before the Church will 
believe that he is called of God to preach ; suppose, for ailment's sake, 
I were to allow, that these * gifU' meant, as this writer contends, * an 
education of some kind ;' and that those who possess them must have 
* read, at least, one book,' and acquired a * knowledge of the first prin- 
ciples' of English grammar? Why, it would follow from this, that * an 
education' must precede a person's call to preach the Gospel ; and it 
does undeniably follow this writer's showing in this place ; and this, 
too, in direct contradiction of the whole drifl of his Strictures, that by 
this rule of Discipline, the Holy Ghost calls no one to the work of the 
ministry who has not * some kind of an education ;' because it is of the 
evidence of a person's call, alone, that the rule speaks in the Disci- 
pline ! So this writer, in his great * zeal for the Church' and against 

* heretics,' has arrived at this conclusion, that * an education of some 
kind,' according to Discipline, must precede a person's call from the 
Holy Spirit to preach the Gospel ! Hence, he says, *> Will the writer 
of the Essay pretend, that these *' gifts" will appear in those who have 
never read " a single book," not even the Bible, nor acquired a *^ know- 
ledge of the very first principles of their vernacular tongue t" And yet 
these are the very «« gifts," by which we are to try every candidate for 
license to preach, if we are governed by our Discipline.' Here, then, 
we have David M. Reese's comment on the rule of Discipline by 
wldcb we are to * try those who think they are moved by the Holy Ghost 
to preach.' The Discipline says, that all who are called of God to 
preach have certain * gifts.' This means, says David M. Reese, that 
they should, among odder things, know how to ' read in the Bible,' at 
leoLtitj and that they should have some * knowledge of the first prin- 
ciples of their vernieicular tongue !' Really, I believe, the reader will 
not find * heresy' in the ' Essay on Theological Education' equal to 
this ! The doctrine of the Essay is, that the call front the Holy Spirit 
to preach the Gospel, makes it one's duty to obtain an education, or 
euch knowledge as is * eicpressly adapted to the work of preaching the 
Gospel,' and without which, Wesley says, ' no preacher can take one 
sUp arighV But, in these Strictures, David M. Reese attempts to 
force upon the Essay a meaning which, he thinks, is * heretical,' * im- 
pious,' * anti-Christian,' and ' anti-Methodistical ;' and, in his * zeal' to 
do this, he finally arrives at this very singular conclusion-^viz. That 
an ability to Tead, and some knowledge of English grammar, is an 

* indispensable pre-requisite' to a person's being called of God to preach 
the Gospel ! Now, whether there be any thing ' heretical in fact and 
in form,' or whether there be any thing * impious,' * anti-Christian,' and 
*' anti-Methodistical,' in all this, let the reader judge. 

And here, I will take occasion to say, that I do not recollect of ever 
having read any thing from the pen of one who made any pretensions 
to intelligence of any kind, which, to my mind, contained so many pal- 
pable contradictions, so many evident discrepancies with itself, so much 
perversion of another's language, and so much unfair reasoning, as I 
find in these Strictures. With the author's motives in writing them, I 
have nothing to do ; but with his language, his arguments, his manner 



216 Tktological Edueaium. 

of reasoning, I have something to do. When a member of the Metho- 
dist E. Church, and one, too, bearing her authority as a public teacher 
of religion, lays to my charge, as this wAter has done, the crime of 
« heresy in fact and form,' and accuses me of ^ inveighing against the 
Discipline' of the • Church of my choice,' uttering ' inexcusable and 
egregious mistakes,' and * impious sentiments,' it seems to me, that 
with an article containing such charges as these, I have something to 
do. Faietur facinus is qui judicium fugit. Surely, if another does 
the mischief, it is not for me to bear the blame. 

8. Another assertion to be noticed in these Strictures is in the 
following words : — < Methodism, from the beginning, has denied the 
doctrine of this Essay, that a literary or theological education is ah 
** indispensable, pre-requisit^," or an essential qualification, in any 
aspect. This is apparent from the writings of Wesley, Fletcher, 
Clarke, and Watson ; and with equal pertinacity and uniformity in our 
own country, by Asbury, Cooper, Bangs, and Emory — all of whom 
have expressed themselves unequivocatty upon this subject.' Now, 
does the reader fail to see, how flatly the above contradicts what this 
writer has said before in his explanation of the word *• gifls,' in the rule 
of Discipline? There he says a person must have so much of an 
education of some kind, as to be able * to read,' and understand * the 
first principles of his vernacular tongue,' before he can be licensed to 
preach according to the Discipline ; but here, he says, that ' no kind of 
an education is necessary or essential, in any atpect /' And, to sup* 
port himself in this contradictory position, he appeals to the writings of 
both the living and the dead ! 

It was certainly a felicitous circumstance, that ^ Wesley* s Appeal to 
the Clergy' was placed in juxtaposition with the Strictures, which con- 
tained such a reflection on the character of that venerable man. A 
more clear, Christian-like, and ample refutation, of such an unjust im- 
putation, so far as Wesley and Methodism are concerned, could not be 
desired. And was it in that * Appeal' that Wesley said, that neither 
* a literary nor theological education' was even an * essential qualifica* 
tion, for a minister of the Gospel, in any aspect V Was it when he 
said : — * As to acquired endowments, can he take one step aright, 
without a competent share of knowledge % — a knowledge first of his 
own office— of the high trust in which he stands — the important work 
to which be i^ called 1 Is there any hope that a man should discharge 
his office well, if he knows not what it is I' 

Was it when he said : — * No less neeessary is a knowledge of the 
Scriptures, which teach us how to teach others ? Ought he not to 
know the literal meaning of every word, verse, and chapter ; without 
which there can be no firm foundation on which the spiritual meaning 
can be built ? Has he such a knowledge of Scripture, as becomes him 
who undertakes to explain it to others ? Has he a full and dear view 
of the analogy of faith, which is a clue to guide him through the whole ? 
Is he acquainted with the several parts of Scripture, with all parts of 
the Old Testament, and the New? Does he know the grammatical 
construction of the four Gospels — of the Acts— of the Epistles ? and 
is he a master of the spiritual sense, as. well as the literal, of what he 
reads ? Does he understand the scope of each book, and how every 
part of it tends thereto ? Has he the skill to draw the natural infer- 



T%€6hgieal EdueaiHon* 217 

enees deducihle from eteh text? Does he know the objections raised 
iJo them, or from them, by Jews, Deists, Papists, Socinians, and all 
other sectaries, who more or less corrupt or cauponise the word of 
Godi Is he ready to give a satisfactory answer to each of these objec- 
tions? ind has he learned to apply every part of the sacred writings, 
as the various states of his hearers require ? And as to his intention, 
both in undertaking this important office, and in executing every part 
of it, ought it not to be singly this, to glorify God, and to save souls 
frcm death ? Is not this absolutely and indispemably necessary, before 
^l, and above all things t' 

Was it in such language as diis, reader, that the pious, learned, 
venerable, and ever-to-be-remembered Wesley, declared * unequivo' 
caUy^ as this writer says, that no education, or knowledge, either lite- 
rary or theological, was * an essential qualification' for * a person 
entering upon me duties of the Christian ministry, in amy aspect* 

Again : Dr. Clarke is here appealed to, and made to say, that no 
* education, either literary or ^ological, is essential' for candidates for 
the Gospel ministry, * in any aspect.' But when did Dr. Clarke utter 
such a sentiment? Was it in 1806 ? when he said, — * We want some 
kind of seminary for educating such workmen as need not be ashamed. 
I introduced a conversation on the subject this morning; and the 
preachers, were unanimously of the opinion, that some strong efforts 
should be made, without delay, to get such a place established. Every 
circuit cries out, '* Send us acceptable preachere." How can we do 
this ? We are obliged to take what offers. The time is coming, and 
now is, wken illiterate piety can do no more for the interest and pe»*tita- 
neney of the tDork of Ood, than lettered irreligion did formerly. Speak, 
O speak speedily, to all our friends ! Let us get a plan organized 
without delay !' 

This extract from Dr. Clarke, I gave before in the Essay under 
notice, not as * a plea,' however, * for theological seminaries,' particu- 
larly, but as an argument which I supposed would have some weight 
in favor of a theological education ; and little did I suspect, that any 
M<&thodist could be found in this country who would take occasion to 
saj, with this extract before his eyes, that its venerable and learned' 
author declared * unequivocally' that neither a * literary or theological 
education was an essential qualification in any aspect,^ for * a person 
entering upon the duties of the Christian ministiy !' Nor does it cover 
up the. error committed in this assertion for the writer to add, that each 
of the peraons whom he enumerates consider * human learning as a 
secondary qualification — an auxiliary, truly desirable in the work of the 
ministry.' Nay, it makes the former statement more inconsistent still ; 
for, if they did not consider either * literary or theological learning an 
essential qualification, in any aspect,^ for persons just entering upon the 
responsible duties of the ministry, how could they consider human 
learning merely * an auxiliary truly desirable,' aflerward, when such 
persons had already ent^^d into the actual service of the ministry? 
Does one that is young and inexperienced need less learning, less 
qualifications, when commencing in this work, than when he has been 
actually engaged in it fifteen or twenty years ? 

To any one who has attentively read the Christian Advocate and 
Journal, lor a ffew years past, as well as the previoua numbera of the 
Vol. yh—J3tpril, 1835. 19 



218 Tkiohgieal Edncatum. 

Methodist Magazine, and the verjrlast number of the Meth. Mag. and 
Quarterly Review, it will easily appear how veiy unfortunate this writer 
was, in referring to Dr. Bangs and others, as a justification of his 
assertion. Who has forgotten the * Letters* of Dr. Bangs to young 
ministers, and which were published years ago 1 And how could one 
speak more explicitly than this venerable servant of the Chprch does, 
in the very last number of this Review, upon this subject? Nor can I 
omit this opportunity of saying, that I shall always bear in my soul a 
most grateful recollection of the early, and, I may add, the successful 
efforts of Dr. Nathan Bangs to advance the cause of education and 
intelligence in the ministry of our Church. 

And I might quote also from a number of articles, which have 
appeared in our difierept periodicals, bearing the signature of Dr. 
£mory, which would abundantly show that he also has had, for years, 
the same objects in view ; and that it never was his intention, as this 
writer says, to be understood as anyiagj that ' no kind of learning, either 
literary or theological, is an essential qualification, in any aspecU^ for 
* persons commencing in the work of the Gospel ministry.' And this 
I would do, for his sake, and for the sake of the cause of Methodism, 
if I had the least suspicion that the statement upon which I have been 
remarking was believed by any one. 

9. From what has already been said, the reader will now perceive 
with what propriety this writer uses the following language : — * Let 
no one tlien, believe, from this Essay, that our Church fosters igno- 
rance in her ministry, or that we are unmindful of the value of learn* 
ing.' See what is said above, 7, where, these Strictures accuse the 
author of the Essay of 'gross injustice' for having said, * no provision 
had been made by the M. E. Church for the education of such as 
she believes the Holy Spirit calls to the work of the ministry ;' though 
at the same time the Essay declares distinctly, that the J)iethodi8ts^ a9 a 
people^ had never been indifferent in the cause of general literature and 
educaiion P And that ' many of her ministers haoe been the most emt- 
nentfor their attainments in science and theological learning.^ Yet in 
criticising this very language, David M. Reese says, this was ' gross 
injustice^^ — and *" this whole representation is as unjust as it is unkind P 
And now, to complete the climax, he cautions the world against sup- 
posingy from the Essay which contains such language, that *the 
Methodists are unmindful of the value of learning !' 

10. Again : look at this : — < We hold no fellowship with the doc- 
trine, that when called of God to the work' of the ministry, any ' are 
to excuse themselves from immediate obedience^ until they shall have 
gone through a course of study in a theological seminary.' Now 
compare this with another place in these Strictures, where die author 
says, — ' If any of our conferences had a list of junior preachers, for 
whom there were no fields of labor, like dome on the list of reserve in 
England, they might be sent to some of our colleges, and the Church 
would sustain them in it !' , 

A few more remarks on these singular Strictures and I shall have 
done. 

This writer accuses the Essay with saying, that God has altered 
the economy of his grace, by which men are called to the work of the 
Christian ministry ! And how do you suppose he attempts to fix this 



Tkeohgieal Eiduc^Han^ 219 

« 

eh«rge upon a Christian brotlier ? Why, by quoting a pari of a para- 
graph, where I make a comparison between the ministers generally, 
in ihe days of Wesley, and the ministers of the present age ! These 
are my words, and those which this writer left out of hia quotation for 
the purpose of changing the sense are here italicised^ that the reader 
may the better distinguish them : — " 

*But there is scarcely any perceptible similarity between the age in 
which we live now, and that in wtuch Wesley lived ; as little, indeed, 
as there is to be seen between the manner of God's calling men into 
the ministry then, and the manner of his doing this now. The regu- 
lar and ordinary ministers of Wesley^s day were generally backslidden, 
or such as never possessed the life and power of godliness ; and the 
same remarks wiU apply to the days of Christ, Hence^ God called 
men in an extraordinary way^ to do the work which others had left un- 
done. But it is not true, now, that the greeU proportion of ministers in 
this country f who believe the fundamentals of the Christian faith, and 
who have come into the ministry in the ordinary way, are destitute, as 
many of their predecessors Have been, of the unction of the Holy Ghost* 
J%is is not the fact.' • 

Now, why did this writer so cautiously leave out the words I have 
mariced in this paragraph ; dismember a sentence, and wring out of 
it a sense which he must have known the writer never designed ? 
Is this the way to prove a man * guilty, both in fact and for^, of 
heresy V 

And what is the plain, unsophisticated meaning of the above lan- 
guage ? Why, simply this ; that there are many more ministers in the 
Protestant Episcopsd Churches, and among the Presbyterians and 
Congregationalists of the present day, who have been called of God, 
^and anointed of the Holy Ghost to preach the Gospel, than there 
were in the days of Wesley. And I am exceedingly sorry to find 
that any one, who claims relationship with the great Methodist family; 
should, in any way, deny this ; and much more so, when I find such 
a one setting down the whole of these ministers, almost without dis- 
crimination, as ^ the greatest drones, idlers, in the ministry, — ^who have 
never been made a blessing to the Church ;' and ' useless encumberers 
o^ the ground, who glory in their theological training instead of the cros3 
of Christ.' I repeat it, I am pained to find such assertions made by 
any professed lover of Methodism, and I pity any one who could allow 
himself to write in this way. But as these remarks were not com- 
menced with the design of noticing every thihg in those Strictures 
deemed incorrect, or as the editOT himself has judged them, * uncalled 
for,' and * unjustifiably severe ;' I think it is not necessary longer to 
tax the reader's patience ; and with a word concerning the opposition 
iKrhieh this writer informs us is felt by some of our people against edu- 
cation and intelligence, I will add np more. He says : ' There 
may be found individual members of our Church, who really think it 
a sin for a preacher to look into a dictionary or English gmmmar, 
and who would lose all faith in> a minister who used a Greek Testa* 
ment, especially if ho were college bred.' * There may be,' but are^ 
there any such in the M. E. Church? Now, if there be such persons 
in our Church, who think it a sin for a preacher to t>e properiy in- 
formed and intelligent, how came they by such views % Did they re- 



329 Tlieohgical Educ^Oion. 

ceive them |rom ' Essays* written and published by our j^'eachera * on 
theological education V Did they reoeive them from any efibrts which 
have been made by our preachers or people to advance the cause of 
education and general literature among ours^ves or elsewhere ? Ate 
these views the legitimate fruits of Methodism ? NO ! These sii^lar 
views, with which it would seem this writer is acquainted, never were 
derived from the Discipline of our Church, which makes it the duty of 
every Methodist preacher to preach expressly on the subject of. educa^ 
tion ; 'they were never derived from the teachings of Wesley, nor 
from the prudent teachings of any of his real followers ; nor from^any 
of our books or periodicals. T\lience, then, did these singular views 
originate 1 It is a remarkable fact, that the preachers of the M. £. 
Church, as a body, have done more by their own aontributions and 
personal exertions, to advance the cause of education, for fifty years 
past, (every thing else considered,) than the same number of preachers 
in any other Church in this country ! And yet there are * some of our 
people who think it a «m' for a public teacher of religion to ^ look into 
a dictionary, or an English grammar, or to read in a Greek Testa- 
ment ;' and who would * loose all faith in one who had been college 
bred !' This is mortifying surely ; and hence this inquiry becomes so 
much the more important : What has been the cause of such views 
among our people 1 I will not believe that any Methodist preacher 
either entertained such views himself, or that any one ever designedly 
communicated such views to others. But have none of us ever written or 
spoken against a * theological education,' in such a way that we may have 
been understood to be speaking or Writing against being ' college bred ?' 
Have none of us ever done any thing which looked hke opposition to 
learning and education 1 Who among us has ever said that ^ the supe- 
rior learning and extraordinary qualifications of both teachers and 
students of scholastic divinity, in ail schools, both ancient and modern, 
have never been rendered a blessing to the Church of God V Who 
among us has said, and proclaimed it in one of our standard periodi- 
cals, as a ^ well-authenticated fact, that the greatest drones in the Gos^ 
pel ministry, idlers in the vineyard^ and useless cumberei's of the ground, 
who now afflict and curse the Church, are among those who have an 
education,'' and who, of course, look into a dictionary, and read also in 
the Greek Tei^tament, and have been * college bred V Who, among 
us shouts an alarm at a feeble and * puerile' attempt to advance the 
cause of education among the ^junior preachers' of our Church? 
T'^lio has denounced an * Essay,' written and published, for this purpose, 
and one too, as < puerile' and feeble as it confessedly was, which had 
been approbated by some of the roost pious and intelligent men in this 
Chvirch ? And who, in his zeal to do this, has said, — < I choose to 
incur the hazard of being excluded from the company of the most 
enlightened, pious, and useful members of the Church!' Who has 
classed the author of an. ' Essay,' simply designed to pi^omote the 
cause of education and intelligence among such as are * entering upon the 
duties of the Christian ministry,' with the * adversaries of Methodism ;' 
as ^ forming a league with our enemies/ and guilty of ' heresy in fact 
and form,' uttering docurines which are * anti-Methodistical' and ' anti- 
Christian ]' Who has denounced such an attempt as * a dangerous and 
ruinous innovation V 



An Exegena ofHeb, »i, 4-6. 221 

Inhoceat, indeed, he may have been, and his motives as pure as an 
angel's in heaven ; he may have succeeded to his heart's content, in 
conviocing his readers diat he has said all this, and much more like it, 
out of a * conscientious regard for the Church of his choice ;' but surely, 
he need not marvel, nor need he be at the pains to tell others of the 
fact, that he has some in his congregation of hearers, and in the com- 
pany of his acquaintance, ' who really think it a sin for a preacher to 
look into a dictionary or English grammar, and who lose all faith in 
one who has been college bred !' 

La Rot Sunderland. 
' February 20, 1835. 



AN EXEGESIS OF MEB. YI, 4-6. 

BT THE REV. GEORGE F.ECl^. 

Hob. vi* 4-6. * For it i$ impossible for those who were onoe enlightened, end 
hare tasted the heavenly gift, and been mvie partakers of the Holy Ghost, and 
hare teated the good word of God, and the powere of the world to come, 
and hare fallen away, to renow thtm again unto repentance, seeing they crucify 
to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put Him to an open shame.* (Wet^y't 
Tran9lation,j 

* For IT IS impossible to renew againt by repenianeet those who kaive been once 
enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and have b$en made partakers 
of tiie Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of tlie 
age which wae to come, and yet have fallen away ; crucifying again in them« 
selves, and making a public example (for this translation or r«/M^«)^^ari{>vra(, 
see Matt, i, 19,) of the Son of God.' (JDr. MaeknighVe Tranelatian,) 

' For it is impossible that they who have been once enlig|^tened, and have 
tasted of the heavenly gift, and been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and 
have tasted the good word of God, and the influences of the world to come, 
and have fallen away, should bo again renewed to repentance ; since they have 
crucified fbr themselves the Son of God, and openly exposed Him to shame.* 
(Pnfenar StuarVg Tran9lati9n^) 

This passage has been variously interpreted, according to the 
theological notions of critics and commentators. By divines of the 
Arminian school, it has commonly been considered as unequiyx>cally 
asserting the possibility and danger of falling finally from a state of 
^race. By Calvinistic interpreters a variety of constructions has been 
put upon it, to make it harmonise with their doctrine of the infallible 
and unconditional perseverance of all those who are brought into a 
gracious state. 

Some of these critics maintain, that all the high attainments set forth 
in the passage, come short of a real state of grace ; only implying such 
an iUumination, and such gifts and endowments, as may be possessed, 
without genuine love to God. Others, that, though a genuine state of 
grace may be set forth, yet the impoanbility of renewal to repentance 
is not to be understood of an absolute impossibility, but as only expres- 
sive of the extreme difficulty o{ the case. Others, that it is only impos- 
sible vntk men; or that it would be impossible for the apostles to 
renew them, but that still God might and would do it. Others, with 
^eza, resort to a bare-faced interpretation, inserting the particle t/— 
• if they shall fall away.' These e^re followed by the translators of our 
present authorized version. But the la3t construction we shall notice- 

19* 



222 An ExegisU of Hth* vi^ 4«-6. 

18, that the apostle does here speak of a fall from a genuine state of 
grace, and that the imposnbiUty of their being renewed is to be taken 
uterally and absolutely ; but that this does not prove that any who are 
embraced in the covenant of grace, wiU ever so fall as to be lost ; God 
having secured their final perseverance, in part at least, by means of 
those very thre^tenings. 

In the investigation of this subject, we propose to see upon what 
grounds each of these theories rests. In the philological part of this 
discussion, we shall make use of Ptofessor Stuart's note upon the pas- 
sage, as he has furnished us with a clear, and, in general, correct 
developement of the doctrine of the passage, and a triumphant refuta- 
tion of all the above schemes of explanation, except the last, which is 
his own. 

This gentleman is known as * professor of sacred literattnre in the 
Theol. Sem., Andover, Mass.,' and as the author of many literary and 
theological works of high order. His commentaries upon the books of 
Romans and Hebrews have attracted the notice of some of the most 
eminent critics, both in this country and Europe, and unquestionably 
evince deep thought, profound erudition, and great diligence. As he 
is a professed Galvinist, and as he refutes the exegesis of most of the 
divines of his school, who have gone before him ; and in fact, concedes 
to us every thing material to our argument from this passage, we shall 
introduce his note at length. Considering the result of his investiga- 
tions, as somewhat more valuable from the fact, that he is forced upon 
them by a philological investigation of the language ; and that deferebce 
to the opinions of his brethren, and a regard to the trust- worthiness of 
his theology as a Galvinist,. would have made it desirable, if possible, 
to arrive at different conclusions. 

' (4.) A^uvarov yaf, for it is impomble^ i. e. we will go forward in 
the attainment of wluit belongs to Christians, and not recede ; for it is 
impossible^ viz. that those who recede and apostatize should be reco- 
vered from their lapse., as the sequel avers. In this method of inter- 
pretation, the meaning of yog is sufficiently evident. But does aduvarcv 
here imply absolute impossibility, or only great difficulty ? The latter, 
Starr and many other critics reply. To vindicate this sentiment, they 
appeal to Mark x, 25, 27, and to the parallel passages in the other 
evangelists* But this appeal is not satisfactory. In Matt, xix, 23, 
and seq. ; Mark x, 23, and seq. ; Luke xviii, 24, and seq. (all relating 
to the same occurrence,) Jesus is represented as saying, '^ iCw^ ^u^xoXdjg, 
fll^l a rich man enter into the kingdom of God !" He then adds, ^' It 
is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich 
man to enter into the kingdom of God." His disciples are astonished 
at this, and ask, ^*- How is it possible that any one [any rich man] can 
be saved t riaaga Suvarou (Tw^^vai." Jesus replied, "With man this is 
aduvarov, [impossible ;] but with God all things are ^uvotra, [possible.]' 
Surely He does not mean merely that this is very difficult with men, 
but that it is absolutely beyond their power to accomphsh it.. 

« The other examples of the use of this word in the New Testament 
are not at all adapted to favor the exegesis of Starr ; e. g. Acta jciv, 8 ; 
Rom. viii, 3 ; xv, J ; where the word, however, if. figuratively em- 
ployed* But if the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews is to bo cocQ- 



Jn Ex$gm$ of Htb, vt, 4--6. 223 

pared with hinuMlf, then is it quite certain that aJwarov will nioi bear 
the qualified sense which Starr puts upon it. Compare Heb. vi, 18 ; 
X, 4 ; xi, 6 ; all clear cases of ahsolule impouibility^ not of mere reUh 
tivt difficulty. These are all the instances in which the word is found 
in the New Testament. Nor will a resort to claaHc usage any bette4r 
defend the interpretation ofStarr* 

^ Beside, if it could be shown that such a qualified sense were agree-* 
able to the uius loquendi^ in some cases, and therefore po9$ibU^ a 
comparison with Heb. z, 2$-dl would destroy all appearance of pro^ 
babUity that such a sense is to be admitted here. If there remains no 
more sacrifice for sin (Heb. x» 26) for those who have apostatized* 
then is there no hope of salvation for them ; as is clear fi*om Heb. x, 
28-31. Moreover, to say merely that it is very difficult to recover the 
lapsed Christians* of whom the apostle is going to speak, would be at 
variance with the imagery employed to describe them* and the fate that 
awaits them, ver. 7, 8. For all these reasons such an explanation of 
aduvarov cannot be admitted. 

* Tou^ oUra^ ^otritfAivrois^ those who have been once erUigkiened^ i. e. 
instructed in the principles of Christianity. Sb ^ajtiTii, in John i, 9 ; 
£ph. iii, 9 ; Heb. x, 32. In all the other passages of the New Testa- 
ment where this word occurs, it is employed in the sense of t^tntfi^ 
upon, throwing light itpon, disclosing. It does not, in itself considered, 
imply saving illumination, but illumination or instruction simply as to 
the principles of the Christian religion. 

^ FsuiTafMvou; rs rr^g Saigsa^ Trie ^voufaviou, and have tasted of the heavenly 
gift* rsv(rafj#6vou^, tasted^ does not mean extremis labris leviter degus- 
tart^ u e* merely to <«p, or simply to apply for once to the pakUe^ so as 
just to perceive the taste of it thing ; but it means the fml ei^'oymen/, 
perception^ or experience of a thing. When the Greek writers wish to 
communicate the former idea, they add yziKB^iv axgots to the phrase ; 
e. g. They are witnesses, oi tt,^ x^'^^^*^ ^^*S ysbia. |x«voi rngiptko^o^as 
aXXa . . . k(fTi(i66vrs€^ who hofce ttot only tasted with th^ extreme part oj 
the lips [sipped] philosophy ^ but . . . feasted upon it. {Philo. Ho. t, de 
Monorchia^ p. 816,) So Chrysostom, ox^oi; roi; x^'^^'^ /fuifouf^ai, 
{Horn, on Jolian. v, 19.) But when Sifull experience or perception of 
any thing is meant, ysuojMu is used simply ; e. g. oi yextifdiusvoi this c^^* 
r«t(, {PhUo. de AbrtUiam^ oper. f, p. 14.) So <rou Bavanit yvoHfsug 
ysuda^Aou^ {Clem. Rom. t, 38.) In the New Testament, ^varovysijstf^^ 

tlo tctste deaths] means to experience death ; e. g. Matt, kvi, 28 ; 
lark ix, i ; Luke ix, 27 ; John viii, 62 ; Heb. ii, 9. Compare also 
Luke xiv, 24; 1 Pet ii, 3. So the Hebrew OjtDi [to taste^] Prov. 
xxi^i, 10 ; Psa. xxxiv, 8. 

' But what is the heavenly gift which they have enjoyed, or the bene* 
fits of which they have experienced ? Some have explained it as being 
Christ himself, by comparing it with John iv, 10. But it is doubtful 
whether SuigsoM^ gift^ there means Christ. It is more probable, that 
it means beneficium^ L e. the kindness or favor which God bestowed 
in vouchsafing an opportunity to the Samaritan woman to converse 
with the Savior. Others have represented ^w^fav, as being the extra* 
ordinary gifl of the Holy Spirit to Christians, in die fHimitive ages of 
Christianity; and they have compared the phrase here with irvcufAa 
aymt IHoly Spirit^] in Acts viii, 19, which means the special gifis of 



.» I^.g«^ '^ ^ ^ /-'^ an., I'fc* sVf 

^ M->.tte does bec'. •^ >^^i^^'-* *'"^* •"» 

Very toe ^ - V 






passsg* 



%><^>;^. through "»«"-'- d«P«-»«*«^ 

•^!\^^ "^^^ unus^^^ ^ V^ftuftcient examples ^ p^aent- 
.^^•^r-< • -^^ «till there are s^ci ^es_as the P^ _^ 



i^e 0/ wjw^ ^ promise of blessings ^^t,e« o/ ^^ « 

r^^l, good, I. ®- y:^/o.gou 8v euJTW ^-o vai, \VM ^Texplanation to a'^ 

than if,fiHf ^\„!he whole clause to 8igiufyne"'y',t, .g yp.<«- 
Uicb would «^keAe Who ^igWened.l or. ^ 

the same as 4*ai '^'^ Tu^lt oH\^ heocenl^ gV*-l . ^^feasor trans" 

<. A«««M*«« ^.f^C^of <»w world «o coiae.' ^**i "Lchneider, oof 
lates it,) • t^e '"^jH^iSiations of Raeinoes *«J Bwtsc^ ^^^ i, 
disapprobauoa the f^P?*^ -^^ ^^ a^e sense of mitncles, « ' „tui 

a sense of OuvojuS. |^coiimuw«"J 20^ ^i, *•»• ,jgj(f 

tLe New Testament; »«« *^"*^ I^' &«. But how will «M»« 

truly a diflBt'-ult phrase ; and, on the wnoic. 




jthi E94ge$i$ of Hth. «t, 4-41. 225 

fellowiog senset vn* ^ k^ntieikcti of ths iforM io come* i. e. of the 
Gospel dispensation ; see chap, ii, 5. There can be ne 4oubt that 
dufi.1^ means influencetf i. e. virtue or power exerted, etc. I take it 
here in its most general sense, and so as comprehsoding whatever 
good or beneficifd influences Ute particulars already named did not 
comprise. 
* Thus interpreted, there is a regular gradation in the whole passage. 

(1) They had been taught the principles or doctrines of Christianity. 

(2) They had enjoyed Uie privileges or means of grace, which the new 
religion afforded. (3) Various gifts and graces had been bestowed 
on them by the Spirit (4) They had cherished the hopes which the 
promises of the Gospel inspire. (5) They had experienced those 
powers or influences, by which the Gospel was shown to be a religion 
from God, and adapted to render them happy. Thus they had the 
fullest evidence, initmal and externa^ of the Divine origin and nature 
of the Christian religion. Consequently, if they apostatized from it, 
there remained no hope of recovery. 

*' (6.) Kai waga/trfifhvrag, and fcove fatten awoy, have made dtfeeiion 
from, viz* from the Gospel, or from all the experience and evidence 
before mentioned ; I'ofOMrtVrcj governing the genitive. The connection 
stands thus : — * It u imooanble for those once enlightened^ and ha»e 
iastedf ^rCf-'Ond have falUn atoay, xeu vajoflrfifovro^. In compound 
verbs, ^afa is often taken to denote deterioration. The fatting away 
or defectum which is here meant, is a renunciation of Christianity, and 
a return to Judaism. This implies, of course, a return to a stale of 
active enmity and hostility to the Christian religion ; for such was the 
Judsdsm of the times when our epistle was written.' 

Upon these words, and have fallen away^ Dr. Macknight, who is 
also a Calvinist, has the following criticism : — ^ The verbs, q)wrf^46v<^, 
Yitufoj^hsmx^ and ^svij^vro;, being aorists, are rightly rendered by our 
translators in the past time — Who were eiUightenedf have tasted^ Vftre 
made partakers. Wherefore v'afoMrfirovra^, being an aorist, oug^t like* 
wise to have been translated in the past time, have fallen away* Ne- 
vertheless our translators, following Beza, who, without any authority 
from ancient MSS., hath inserted in his version the word m, if have 
rendered this clause, If they fall aiMy ; that this text might not appear 
to contradict the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints. But as no 
translator should take upon him to add to, or alter the Scriptures, for 
the sake of any favorite doctrine, I have translated vaputs^^ras in the 
past time, have fallen away^ according to the true import of the word, 
as standing in connection with the other aorists in the preceding verses. 
Farther ; ^agaj^stfoyfrag is put in opposition to what goes before in the 
4th and 5th verses ; the conjunction xot, with which it is introduced, 
must show here its adversative signification, exemplified £ph. vi, 21, 
JBLnd yet have fallen awaif* Wall, in his note on this verse, saith, ^« I 
know of none but Beza whom the £nglish translators could follow. 
The Vulgate hath, Et prolapsi sunt ; the Syriac, Qtt» rursum peccave* 
runt ; Castalio, Et tamen relabuntur. The word itapt^mfovrtnc literally 
signifies, have fatten down. But it is rightly translated have fatten 

* I take the liberty here to give the transletioii, ioftead of the Greek. 



^ 



226 •An Exegens of Heh. ««, 4--6. 

away, because the apostle is speaking not of any common lapse, but 
of apostasy from the Christian faith/' ^ 

' IlaXiv ovaxaivi^fiv fio* (xsravoiav, again to be renewed by repentance. 
IlaXfv [again'] should be joined to dvaxouvi^siv [to be renewed,] not only 
by common usage in respect to the position of an adverb when placed 
immediately before the verb which it qualifies, but the sense here 
requires it. Ruinail says, Partictda «'aXiv rendundat. But where he 
gets any authority for such a construction, in a case like the present, 
I know not« The writer does not, indeed, mean to say, *' Those who 
have a second time fallen away ," but that ** those who fall away cannot 
be again or a second time brought to repentance." Drusius, Cappell, 
Abreseh, and others, take avaxaivi^siv here in the passive sense, as equi- 
valent to av€pcouvil^6(f&cu, and construe it in connection with what pre- 
cedes in this manner : '* It is impossible for those who have been once 
instructed, etc. to be renewed to repentance." The simple grammatical 
construction of avoxeuvi^fiy, as it now stands in the active voice, is thus : 
'* It is impossible again to renew by repentance such as have been once 
instructed," etc. If the latter method of construing the sentence be 
adopted, it is natural to ask, Who is the subject of the work, avaxaivi^siv ? 
i. e. who is the agent that is to produce this renovation ? Is it Godf 
i. e. the Holy Spirit, or Paul,, or others? Bretschneider(Sex.) under- 
stands the word in an active sense, and supposes that Christian teachers 
are the agents to whom the writer refers. Starr renders it indefinitdy ; 
** Man kann unmoglick neider lessom," one cannot possibly produce 
anotfur amendment. But, instead of saying one rMnnot, in this case, 
I should prefer understanding avoxaivi^efv in an inipersonal sense, and 
rendering it in English by our passive verb ; since many verbs used 
impersonally convey a passive sense. See my Heb. Grammar, sec. 
600, note 2. 

'There is still another construction which may be made of the pas- 
sage, and which is a very common Greek one ; viz. w'aXiv avaxam^siv 
Tovg a«raf ^wTjtf&svrof . . . xai fl'afairgo'ovra^, aSxtvarov, to renew, or the 
renewal of, persons once instructed, . . . and who have apostatized, is 
impossiide. In this case the infinitive dvaxa ivf^^iv is used as a noun, 
and makes the subject of the proposition. This would afford the same 
sense as that which was last suggested above. 

♦ EiV jubsravoiav, with respect to repentance ; Chrysostom, Erasmus, 
and others, 6i^ repentance. "Big with the accusative, sometimes signi- 
fies the manner or means, in which or by which a thing is done ; e. g. 
Mark v, 34 ; Acts vii, 53. But here it may be translated, in respect 
to, vAth regard to, a sense which is very common to the word. Con- 
strued as it is in the version which I have made, the sense will be, 
'» To renew them so that they will repent." 

' Avatfravgovvtss lauroij rov uiov tou &ou, since they have crucified for 
thcTnselves the Son of God. Chrysostom construes avoufavgowrag, [cru- 
cified,] as meaning ^eeXiv avourraf ouvrd^, [crucified again ;] and so our 
English translators, and many others. But this is not conformable to 
common Greek usage. Ava, in composition, merely augments the 
intensity of a rule, if indeed it produces any effect upon its significa^ 
tton ; for sometimes this is hardly perceptible. That the word'in ques- 
tion is to be figuratively taken is plain from the nature of die case. 



Jim Ex9g€$U of HA. m, 4-ir. 227 

Actoai pkyriemi eraci&doii is out of the queslioii* It means, tkeD, to 
trciU vfUk the greate»t ignominy and confonyf. 

^ But what does kouroTg [kimielf] mean ? It is susceptible of two in- 
terpretations : (1) As Datiwu ineommodi^ i. e. to their own^hurt^ 
$hame^eic ; so Starr. See Winner's N. T, Grammar, sec. 31, ed. 3. 
(2) It may be construed as Hebrew pronouns in the dative frequently 
are, viz. as pleonastic ; e. g. ']^ "fV* go for thyself i. e* go ; *|S D3t 
he has fled for himself i. e. he hoe fled; Heb. Grammer, sec* 545. I 
inciine to the latter mode of explanation. Perhaps the shade of idea is, 
^ crucify^ so far as they are concemeci," (n:, *^ they themselves being 
conc^ned in the transaction of crucifying." 

* Kai 4raga5si7fMiri2^owa^, and exposed him to public shame ; compare 
Matt i, 19. By renouncing their adherence to Christianity, they would 
openly declare their belief that Christ was only an impostor, and of 
course that He suffered justly as a malefhctor. By returning again to 
Judaism, they would approve of what the Jews had done ; and thus 
ihey would, as it were, crucify Christ, and expose Him to be treated 
by unbelievers' with scorn and contumely. Every one knows, that an 
apostate from a good cause gives new occasion, by an act of apostasy, 
for the enemies of that cause to, utter all the mahgnity of their hearts 
against it. In this sense apostates expose the Savior to pubhc infamy, 
when they renounce all regard for Him, and join with those who view 
Him as an impostor and a malefactor.' 

In his twelfth * excursus^' the professor resumes the subject, as fol- 
lows:— *< But does the whole paragraph pertain to real Christians, or 
to those who are such only by profession ? To the former, beyond all 
reasonable doubt For how could the apostle so solemnly warn those 
who are mere professors of Christianity against defection and apostasy ? 
Defection from what ? From a graceless condition, and a state of hy- 
pocrisy. Such must be the answer, if mere professors (and not pos- 
sessors) of Christianity be addressed. But mere professors, instead 
of being cautioned against defection from the state in which they are, 
are every where denounced in lanffuage of the severest reprobation. 
See Rev. iii, 15, 16 ; and the denunciations of the Savior against the 
Pharisees. 

* Moreover, the language employed to describe the condition of the 
persons in question, shows that the writer is addressing those whom 
he takes to be real Christians ; e. g* fASro)(ou^ . '. . ^rvSfMcrog a^iou, [par- 
takers of the Holy Spirit ;] xaXov yswfeqt^vws df ou ^fMc, [tasted of the 
good word of God.] Above all, ^rotXiv avaxouvi^siv si; jxsravoiav, [again 
to be renewed to repentance ;] for how could he speak of being again 
renewed by repentance,, if he did not address them as having been once 
renewed by it? 

■*' The nature of the crime, too, and the awful denunciation with which 
it is threatened, shows that something peculiar is attached to the case 
which the writer is describing. Sinners, who have been taught, the 
doctrines of religion, and yet renouneed their external respect for it, 
are manifestly not without the pale of God's mercy ; at least they are 
i|ot so considered in the Scriptures generally, and /act shows that they 
are not. It is a peculiacjuid aggravated case, then, which is here 
stated ; and what other case can it be, than that of apostasy from a 
«tets of saving knowledge oi Christ and His Gospel 1 Nor is such a 



228 An Exigt$i$ of ^€h. W, 4-6. 

• 

case at all without a parallel in the Soriptnres. Murifesdy such a 
one is stated in Heb. x, 26--d2 ; also in 2 Pet. ii, 20^22 ; in Ezek. 
xviii, 24 ; xzxiii, 12, 13 ; iii, 20 ; and in manj odier passages of the 
Bible. It is iipf^ed in every warning, and in every coniimnation, 
addressed to the righteous ; and sorely the Bible is filled with both of 
these, from the beghining to the end. What is implied, when our Sa- 
vior, in his sermon on the mount, urges upon his disciples, i. e. the 
apostles, as well as other disciples, (see Luke vi, 12-*20,) the duty of 
cutting off a right hand, and of plucking out a right eye, that offends ; 
and thus, on a penalty of being cast into hell? (Matt v, 29, 30.) Is 
this penalty reaUy threatened ; or is it only a pr^tnce of threatening, 
something spoken merely t» terrorum ? Can we hesitate as to the 
answer which must be given to this question ? 

* But if we admit the penalty to be renUy threatened, then the imf^i- 
cation is the same as in the passage before us, viz. that ChrigtiaM are 
addressed as exposed to incur the penalty of the Divine law by sin* 
ntng. In our text they are surely addressed as exposed to fall into a 
state in which there is no hope of renewal by repentance.' 

It would seem from the above, that this eminent scholar and theo- 
logian had not only fully conceded our exegesis of the text under con- 
sideration, but many more of our proof texts ; and, indeed, nothing short 
of the whole argument upon the danger and possibility q£ falling from 
grace ! But he next makes an effort to save himself ; or to avoid the 
imputation of having entirely abandoned the Calvioistic views of the 
perseverance of the saints. He proceeds :— 

< Whatever may be true in the Divine purposes, as to the final salva^ 
tion of all those who are once truly regenerated, (and this doctrihe I 
feel constrained to admit,) yet nothing can be plainer, than that sacred 
writersthave every where addressed saints in the same manner as they 
would address those whom they considered as constantly exposed to 
&11 away and perish for ever. Whatever theory may be adopted in 
explanation of this subject, as a matter oifaety there can be no doubt 
that Christians are to be earnestly and solemnly warned against the 
danger of apostasy, and consequent, final penUtion. What else is the 
object of the whole Epistle to the Hebrews, except a warning against 
apostasy ? In this all agree. But this involves all the difficulties that 
can be raised by metaphysical reasonings, in regard to the perseve- 
rance of the saints. For why should the apostle warn true Christians, 
(and such he surely believed there were among the Hebrews, chap, vi, 
9,) against defection and perdition ? My answer would be : Because 
God treats Christians as free agents, as rational beings ; because he 
guards them against defection, not by mere physical power, but by 
moral means, adapted to their natures, as free and rational agents.' 

But to this method of evading Miiat appears to us the necessary 
consequences of his philological investigations, we shall urge two ob^ 
jections. The jlr^tis, that it involves the professor in inconsistency. 
It is clearly inconsistent with the sound argument which he has prose* 
cuted with good effect upon ano^er subject of impmtance. We refer 
to his argument against Universalism, in his « £xeg(^k$al Essays on 
the severfld words relating to future punishment.' In this work he con* 
clusively urges the cert»nty of the eternal puniidmient of the finally 
impenitent, from the legitimate iinport <^ the w(«ds employed in rektiott' 



An Exegesii of Heb* «t, 4-6. 229 

to that subject ; such a«, hell, for ever, everhMting, tec. Hie argu- 
ment from tibeee words is substantiallj this, that sinneni are addressed 
as exposed ie final impenitenee and an eternal helL That ^ey are 
tkreatened with a punishment literaUy eternal. 

Now supposing a Untversalist opponent to reply to his argument thus : 
* Though we admit that the sacred writers have every where addressed 
stoners in the same manner as they would address those whom they 
considered as constantly exposed to die impenitent, and perish for 
ever; yet we are constrained to assert that the final salvation of 
aii men is true, in the Divine purposes. And the sacred writers warn ■ 
sinners against final impenitence and perdition, because Grod treats 
men s^free agents, as rational beings ; because he guards them against 
final impenitence and its consequences, not by mere physiced power, 
but by moral means adapted to their natures as fi-ee and rational 
agents ;* — What would Professor S. say in answer to this ? If he 
were to a^ere to his principles, would he not be found to acknow- 
ledge, that the threats of eternal punishment he has adduced, after all, 
fail to prove that any wUl finally realixe them I 

Dr. Huntington, in his posthumous work, entitled * Calvinism 
Improved,' admits th^ ffdl force of the terms which Professor S. 
.examines ; and yet attempts to prove the final salvation of all men 
on the principles of substitution, viz. that Christ suffered the whole of the 
threatened penalty in the sinner's stead, and of course that the sinner 
could not justly be compelled to suffer it in his own person. Had 
our professor lived a litUe earlier, he might have furnished Dr. H. 
with another argument, with which to avoid the doctrine of eternal 
punishment, his own philology upon the strength of the terms em- 
ployed, notwithatanding. For, upon the principles of exegesis which 
the professor adopts, in the case under consideration, the Universalist 
would coraplptely avoid his conclusions, from the strength of the terms 
employed in relation to the duration of the threatened punishment. 
The Universalist might admit all that our author contends for upon this 
point, and yet the truth of his theory remain unaffected. For he might 
retort with the greatest propriety : * Though, indeed, eternal punish- 
ment is threatened in the Bible, this by no means proves it will ever 
be realized. It is indeed one of the means employed by God to 
serve the purposes of his mercy, in relation to the whole of Adam's 
race. Though sinners ** are addressed as exposed to" die impenitent, 
and be eternally damned, yet "I am constrained to admit, the final 
salvation" of all men ^' is true, in the Divine purposes." ' 
- Is there any flaw in this conclusion 1 Andf does not the Univer- 
salist, uf>on Professor Stuart's own principles of exegesiii, fairly avoid 
his conclusions, and fiimi^h (if the exegesis in question be correct) a 
triumphant answer to all that can be urged from the terms which he 
has examined with so much critical skill ; and indeed to almost 
every material argument to be deduced fix)m the Bible against him ? 
It gives us no pleasure to descant upon the inconsistencies of others 
under any circumstances, but especially when such iriconsistencies 
are found in those who have rendered important services to the world, 
and whom we regard as every way, by far, our superiors. But prin- 
€ipU must not be sacrificed to men, whatever may be their standing. 

But secondly, we object to the exegesis altogether, in both eases. 
Vol. Jl.— April, 1836, 20 



2M PiuntpkraH on Job. 

We are coaeliiined to belieTe, kiielalic»i to die <ibr«al«fMi|^#den(Nmceiyt 
both against the finally impenitent and final apoetatea, that there is 
aomething fearfiiUy portentous. We belioTe that there ia too much 
eolemnitj and seventy in these terrible comminations to admit of the 
idea of a merefaUe alarm* Indeed* the auppomtion is, in our view, 
derogatory to the Divine veracity, and would, if pushed to its legiti^ 
mate consequences, undermine the foundations of our confidence in 
God, as a being of undeviating sincerity and truth* For if He can 
direaten what He never will execute, why, then. He can promise what 
He never will fulfil I and so we would be left without a permanent 
foundation for our hopes ! 

In conclusion we can but say, that we consider the case under con* 
sideration, one instance among several, in which this eminent linguist 
evidently flinches ai the consequences of his interpretations of Scrips 
ture. We do, indeed, rejoice that he so frequently enters iaio a firee 
and independent discussion of points, which have been so long main* 
tained, and considered as settled, by Calvinistic interpreters ; and that 
he fearlessly dissents from, and ably refutes some of their most objec<^ 
tionabie oonstroctions of the sacred text. But we can but regret that 
his attachment to a ' theory,^ and his « metaphysical reasoning,' should 
ever so bias his judgment, as to force him into reserves and resorts, 
which go in any measure to neutralize his labors as a critic* 

Auburn, January 16, 18d5. 



PARAPHRASE ON JOB. 

Mr. EniTon,— -The following paraphrase was written by a member 
of the Society for the Promotion of Education ; and its author intended 
to have read it at the last meeting of the Society ; but was* prevented. 

I have therefore solicifed of him a copy for pubhcation. 

Marcus. 



It is with no small embarrassment that I submit to your judgment 
the following poetical effort. I am conscious of entering a field whero 
the reapers have been before me, and all that was rich and rare and 
beautiful has been culled and garnered. Not possessing originality 
enough to strike out some new path, I have contented myself with 
taking a sublime specimen of ancient poetry, and adapting it to English 
metre, and present it, in a modem c^urb, for your approbation or cen- 
sure. Aiyr attempt to improve the language of the original would bo 
vain and presumptuous ; you will, therefore, perceive that I have ad* 
hered punctiliously to the spirit of the poem, as w^ as the originai 
reading, only vaiying the phraseology so as to suit the metre. The 
measure I have selected is the English anapaest, a beautiful specimea 
of which is Campbell's Lochiel Warning, which approaches nearest ta 
the hemistich of the original. Indeed, the plaintive seriousness, a« 
well as the ilrag of that measure, is well calculated for the subdued wail 
of permanent aqgui^. The translator of the original appears to have 

SUded naturally into this measure, for he opens the lament of Job ia 
lat strun: * Let the day perish wherein I was bomt' &c* 



ParwpkmH on Job, 231 

I am well aware that a pfodaetioii of thui kind is not altoge^r in 
keeping with the avowed object of thik societ3r, and that to encourage 
a taate in the mMnbership of the Church for the more useful and prac- 
tical bmnches of education is of paramount importance to thoee minor 
efibrts, that seem but to enri^ the fancy, or exalt the imagination. 
Still there is an error in depreciating poetry too far, or considering it 
idwajs as subservient or secondary to prose. Poetry is the mother of 
devotion ; it is not merely her handmaid, but it is that which, if rightly 
directed, invariably gives rise to the soul's ^ mysterious longings.' It 
travels upward ; it hath no congenialify with earth ; with the lark it 
ascends, with its matin tribute, to the very gate of heaven-^o Him, 
who is the source, the centre, and the soul of all harmony. All nature 
teems with poetry, from the faint melody of the purling rill to the rush 
of the cloud-sprinkling cataract ; from &e harmonious grove to where 
sphere chimes with sphere in mystic melody. Wherever in national 
history, in the record of ages that are gone by, poetry has become a 
passion, and a pumuit among the citizens of a nation, there its effects 
are happily evident in Ihe polish of manners, the soflening down of 
asperities and ferocities, the eliciting and drawing out the virtuous and 
kindred feelings of man's rough nature, the increased respect to private 
right and public justice. Who shall say that the Iliad and the Odyssey 
of Homer were not productive of all this, and more ? The violation of 
female honor, of individual right ; of hospitality, ingratitude, contempt 
of the Deity, disrespect to old age, are there visited widi such signal 
retribution, depicted in glowing numbers, and by a master hand, that 
they could not but have a powerful influence on the morals of a people. 

It doth appear to me, that true piety and experimental religion are 
so intimately comiected with the poetic spirit, or, as Racine terms it,, 
the * genie cre^^iir,' that I do not know how it is that, widun the pale 
of our own Church, a poetical taste is so little cultivated, and so Utile 
cared for, noted as that Church is for the great stress it lays upon a 
religion in the soul. 

^ The same reasons for decrying a taste for poetry are in vogue for 
depreciating devotional and experimental piety, viz. they are both incom* 
patible with the spirit of pecuniary enterprise and gain-— that both are 
inconsistent with that close, suspicious, intriguing spirit^ which with 
some is too much the * sine qua non' in formmg a mercantile character^ 
I readily allow ; and Heaven grant (hey ever may be ! The man that 
would rather sacrifice his iirtegrity than his riches, whose exaltations 
and depressions are governed only by ^e state of the money market, 
would be a cold and indifferent hstener to the pathetic and soul-stirring 
strains of Isaiah; to him the harp of David, though struck by the 
niaster himself, would have no charms, while the heaven-towering 
flights of a Milton would hardly remind him of his own baseness.. 

A suitable, though not engrossing attention to the laborious and 
active pursuits of life is not, however, alike compatiMe with the spirit 
of genuine piety, as well as th^ cultivation of a poetical taste. History 
will^mish us widi proofs. Take one of the mai^y brilliant examples 
from antiquity. King David was burdened with the government and 
cares of a nation, and a nation of most discordant materials for repose,* 
and quite a stiff-necked»and rebellious generation; and yet poetiy, 
music, and devotion was the dafly food of his souU wA ofi he soothed 



232 Parapkra»e on Jofr. 

the jarring cares of state with Judah's harp, attuned ahemately to joy 
or sadness. We have a long list of names, hi^ in the Church and 
the state, celebrated for their religious, literary, and temporal labors. 
Among these may be cited Dr. Young, the Wesleys, Bishop Heber ; 
they were Christian philosophers, poets, and working men. Among 
statesmen and politicians there is Mr. Canning, the late premier of 
England, Martines de la Rosas, minister of Spain, both poets of envi- 
able celebrity ; Chateaubriand, the minister of Charles X., still living, 
who stands high on record as philosopher, traveller, biographer, histo- 
rian, ambassador, statesman, ajid poet. 

I am not one of those who would deny the flights of the inaagination 
when properly directed ; and for this reason, their tendency is upward. 
There is already too much of earthUness in our nature. Whatever 
unlooses the soul, though but in part, from this tenacious clod, lends it 
a pinion more to soar away and mingle with the blaze of day. 

I have commenced paraphrasing where the poem properly com- 
mences, at the third chapter, wherein Job curses the day of his birth, 
and regrets that he ever saw the light ; describes the empire of death, 
and its inhabitants ; regrets that he is appointed to Uve in the midst of 
sorrows, for the calamities that he feared had overtaken him. 

Let the day perish wherein I was born ! 
From the days of the year be it blotted and torn ; 
Shine not upon it, O God ! with thy light, 
^ Rest fearfully on it the death stain and blight ; 
Unrescued, a prey to blackness and gloom, 
Be terror its meed, and darkness its doom ! 
And, as for that day, be it stricken with feai^ " 
No glimmer of light o'er its darkness appear ; 
Disjoin'd from the days, a curse -stricken thing, 
, Let no cheerful note o'er its soUtude ring ; 

For it cut me not off in my mother's womb. 
But gave me alive to a world of gloom. 
Ah ! would that my spirit had burst away 
The moment it woke in its barrier, of clay ! 
Ah ! would Uiat the knees, which refused me to die, 
Had fail'd, and the breasts withheld their supply ! 
For now had I lain composed, unopprest. 
In slumber serene, in unbroken rest. 
With earth's counsellors wise, the flighty of old — 
The strong arm, the valiant, the ai^sser of gold ! 
Or else, would to God, as untimely birth 
I had dropp'd from the womb, but to moulder in earth ! 
There on Uiat silent, oblivious shore. 
Grades, classes, complexions are thought of no more ; 
There the wicked for ever have ceased to revile. 
And the weary and worn their sorrows beguile ! 
The poor, the opprest, the slave, with toil spent. 
Have forgotten to weep — ^have ceased to lament ! 
The high and the low, the small and the great. 
Lie blended together in one common fate. 



P^fUfhrmm m Jot. 2U 

Ah! why dispeoM the 6At %ht of tumtetn 
To him, wtioBe 8a«l witk •nguisli i» nfn ; 
Who loQg ^ their deetiit who oovet the gimve, 
And wilcome the eigiiel ef ite ehadevy wave ; 
Who head o'er the toaU with bope^Ughled ejw* 
And ardantfy esk to etcken end die 1 
Ah ! why am I mook'd iridi Heaven'e bieet Ught ; 
My way is hedged ap» bewildered my eight 
With fast fkUing tears I have moisten'd my food-*- 
My grooiM ere iwsttQr'dyae the swifl-ruahiiig flood. 
The woes that my soul dreaded eren in thought 
Are suddenly made my {lOftioB aad lot ; 
My boscHu was far from anxiety free : 
But this is the climax of miseryl 

CHAPTKR XXIX. 

Job lamentf his preftnt eeadition» tad pfm «i aflbetiaf ateMuit of his (bfiner 
*pro0perity, haying praper^ in abaiideaoai and bsiag Muitwihrl by a naiiMroai 
familj, and enjoying evtiy maxk of thesfiprobatioa of God ; m— ka of the raapeot 
he received from the jovrng, from the noblee ; detaila hia condaot aa magiatrate 
aad jadge in aupporting the poor snd repraaaing the wicked, hia confidence, 
l^enenl proeperity, and reapeot. 

! that I were as in day» that «e past* 
When the Eternal arms around me were east*— 
When the tight of His candle shone blight on my head,^ 
And by its blest beam through the darkneesl sped! 

! that the ^ys of my yo«d& would retum* 
£re the secret of God from my bosom was torn* 
When my Father m heaven was with m» to bless* 
And my children around to shai« my casesft^ 
W hen I washed my steps in the b«^ter*milk stKam» 
And nvens of oil from the flinty roek came. 
When I walk'd forth to die citadel gate« 
Or my seat prepared in the populous street. 
The yoitng m^ hid away wbeo they saw my &ce, 
' And the a^ rose up to honor and bleas ; 
The princes were silent^ the noUes refrain'd* 
While their hands on their lips in deference remain^. 
Honor and gratitude greeted my ways ; 
The ear hoivd but to bless* the eye saw but to pnise ; 
For I minded the ory of tiie wret<^isd aad kme« 
And the fittfaeriess' wrotigs I msde my own ; 
Who were ready to peridi I snatdi'd from the grare« 
Andlier j^ to the heart of the widow I gave. 
Righteoosaeee dodi^d me, jui^ment army'i ; 
Or like a biigiit diadem, circled my head. 

1 was eyes to the Mind and feet to Ihe lame. 
And boldly I plead the peer man's daim : 
But tba apeiler I orusVid my ftet beneath. 
And piudk^d the Bp<A from betiMoii his t»eth. 
Then I s^id in my nest I shall flomrish and diev 
When my days, as tiM sand of the sea, multiply: 

20* 



2S4 Porapkt0$€ 0n Job* 

For bj the fresh waters my root was spread, 
And the dews of heaven my branches fed. 
My glory declined not, but flonrish'd apace, 
And my bow was renewed in yigor and grace. 
When I spake none utter'd their counsel again, 
For my words dropp'd down as the tatter rain ; 
And men were bound, as if by a spell, 
For never the light of my countenance fell. 
I chose out tfieir way, and sat as a chief 
While the suppliant sou^t and obtained relief. 

CHAPTSR XXX. 

Job proceed! to lament the change of his former condition, and the contempt 
into which his adversity had brought him; pathetically describes the afflictiosf 
of his body and mind. 

But now they, that are yotoiger in years, 
Deride me with scorn, and mock at my tears. 
Whose fathers I would have disdainM to set 
With the dogs of the flock, that ate of my meat 
Perish'd in vigor, and weak through infirmity. 
Could the strength of their hands have profited me ? 
Want and famine had made them their own ; 
In the desolate wilderness was their home. 
'Neath the nettle and bramble for shelter they stood, 
And the juniper roots were their meagre food. 
They were scouted from men, and driven to dwell 
In the caves of the earth and the clefls of the hill ; 
Children were they of fools, base bom and bred, 
More vfle tfian the earth — more rank than the dead. 
And now I am their song, by-word, and reproach ! 
They spare not their taunts, and are swift to encroach. 
With scornful abhorrence they turn from my sight. 
Or stay but to heap new insult and spite ; 
For He hath loosed my cord, made bitter my wail ; 
Therefore, unbridled, they cease not to rail. 
The youth rise against me ; they mar my path, 
As the out-break of waters that rush in their wrath ! 
Dismay on me they roll, with anguish I start. 
Then languishing sink, asthepoor stricken hart. 
Swifl, as the wind, fresh terrors pursue 
Till my vigor is gone, like the morning dew. 
« At the night-watch my bones are pierced with pain, 
And the sinews no respite fh>m anguidi obtain. 
Debased and degraded He treade£ me down. 
And I perish beneath His widiering frown. 
Stay thy arm ! I cry, in my fierce agony ; 
The wail of my gri^ rise^ up to the sky. 
Thou regardest me net ; thou art cruel become f 
Thy strong hand oppresseUi me, feeble and lone : 
Thou liftest me up on the drivmg air. 
And I ride the wind till dissolved widi fear. 



7%e CohntMUwn Cat»e. 2K 

For I know that to death thou mh bring me soon 
To the house appointed, the living's long home. 
But not to the grave will thy hand extend, 
For there my sorrows will have an end. 
Ah ! wept I not for the poor man's fate, 
And grieved was my soul for the desolate ; 
But, alas ! when I look'd for good, there came 
To my grief-struck bosom evil and shame ! 
I was ready to greet the look'd for light ; 
And lo ! I am plung'd in a darker night ! 
My bowels boil in me ; my bosom is reft ; 
What solace upholds me-— what refuge is left ! 
With a voice of wo, in the assembly, I cried, 
I am a brother to dragons, and with owls abide. 
The force of disease hath blackenM my skin ; 
A fire is raging my bones within. 
As the voice of the weeper, my lute breathes out ; 
And my harp is struck with a mournful note. 



THE COLONIZATION CAUSE. 

Wk ^ve below the first annual Report of the Yoang Men's Colonization 8e. 
ciety of Pennsylvania, together with extracts from the speeches of sooie Christian • 
frentlemen who addressed the meeting at the first anniversary. This cause has 
recently received a new impulse ; and it will be fonnd, we humbly trust, a safe 
rallying point for all the friends of African melioration and salvation. 

Tke Jartt annual Report of the Young Men^e Colonization Society of Penn. 

The God ' who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,* hath never left the 
afflicted people of color in this country without warm and zealous friends. 

The principles of that man of peace and mercy, William Penn, remained in 
active exercise among his benevolent followers ; and at a very 'early date we find 
in Pennsylvania societies for the emancipation of slaves and the relief of free 
hlacks. Immediately after the saooeesful issue of the war of independence, the 
attention of the freemen of the United States was tamed to the evil of slavery, 
and the unjust oppression of the colored race, in those states where there were 
few or no distinctions of color recognized by their laws, and all enjoyed the 
right of fireedom. In other states, #here the blacks were more numeroos, and, 
of consequence, the difficulties in the way of their relief greater, the friends of 
humanity were not idle. Dr/ Franklin was at the head of an anti-slavery society, 
in 1787, and similar associations were formed in several other portions of the 
confederacy. The political sagacity of Mr. Jefferson discovered very early the 
inccKQsistency of involuntary servitude with free institutions, and earnestly, but 
unsuccessfully endeavored to commence its eradication from Virgrinia^ 

Notwithstanding, however, the zeal and number of these direct efforts against 
slavery, and in fiivor of the colored people, but little was aecompliabed. The 
evils which the patriot and the philanthropist deplored continued rapidly to 
increase. It is true, that in several states a system of gradual emaneipation was 
successfully pursued. Many were delivered from ilfegal bondage, and more 
leceived the beaefits of eduoation. Yet mercy sighed for some method of relief . 
more 'piomisuig and immediate. The intelligeak friend of the negro could not 
bai jlereeive 1^ difficulties, natural, moral,- and political, in the way of securing 
to him all the good which he needed. He knew that the souths excited as well 
by hax of the physical force of her slave population, as her supposed sense of 
hilereat from her peculiar agriculture, mutt regard with jealousy every attempt 



236 The CoUmg^ii&n Cmue. 

to interfere with her domeatie relations. He tHao knew that the free atatee could 
not interfoTe directly in the matter without a violation of the conatitution, nor 
would they consent to jeopard the integrity of the union and the national aafety 
by the affitation of this exciting topic on the floor of Congrees. He waa aleo 
aware of the jealousy which most ever eziat (nnti^ perfect holinesa aubdnoa all 
prejudice) between two racee» markedly distinct, yet inhabiting the aame coun. 
try ; and the contempt with which the deacendanta of alavea are ever regarded 
by the offspring of the free. He could also foresee the difficulty of elevating the 
character — ^the character of the blacks themselvea— while depressed by this load 
of contumely, and surrounded by all the associationa of their former bondage. 
No sufficient plan for obviating all those diffieolties was proposed to the Ame- 
rican public until the year 1817, when the American Colonisation Society was 
instituted at Washington. 

The idea of colonizing the people of color in the land of their fathers was 
indeed of a much .earlier date. To Mr. Jeflbrson is, probably, due the htmor of 
the discovery ; for so early as the year 1777 he propoeed a plan providing, in hig 
own emphatic language, '* for the restoration to Aliica of her stolen children.** 
In 1787 the British colony at Sierra Leone was established, through the influence 
of Sharp, Clarkson, and Wilberforce ; and excited the attention of several reflect- 
ing minds in this country, among whom were Dr. Thornton of Washington, and 
the Rev. Dr. Hopkins of Rhode Island. Indeed before the year 1800, Paul 
Cuffise, a negro of great talent, proposed colonisation ; and subsequently carried 
out a number of emigrants, at his own expense, but was prevented only by death 
from seeking, with a large number of his oppressed fellows, a home in Africa. 
The establishiuent, however, of the national society first gave to the plan sub- 
stance and life. It has often been remarked, that when the God of providenco 
intends to employ human instrumentality in some new display of benevolence, 
he inspires several minds, perhaps widely distant, with the same purpose. This 
was eminently true of the rise of this enterprise. The Rev. Dr. Finley of New- 
Jersey, and Elias B. Caldwell, Esq., originally of the same state, had long been 
revolving in their minds the duty of imitating the God of Israel, in sending forth 
the opfweesed Africans froim the land of their bondage to the land God gave to 
their fathers, and of recompensing that bleeding continent for her wrongs, by 
the healing influence of the Gospel of peace. These views were communicated 
to several gentlemen, among whom were the Hon. Elias Boudinot and Gov. 
Bloomfield, who had discovered by painful experience the inefficiency of more 
anti-slavery efforts, in which they have long been engaged, and who heartily 
coincided in the mercifbl expediency of thet measure. About tiie same time a 
distinguished son of Virginia, Hon. C. F. Mercer, whose living merit needs no 
panegyric, revived the idea of Mr. Jefferson before alluded to, and had already 
consulted with several benevolent and approving friends. Through the unHed. 
efforts of these philanthropic individnals the society was formod, having for its 
distinct purpose ** the colonisation of the free peo|^ of color, residing in this 
country, in Africa or elseidiere, with their own consent.** 

In the succeeding year the work was commenced, and, amid innumerable difi. 
cttltiea, has given to the history of the world the most suecessfol instance of 
colonisation upon record. In less than thirteen years, since its 'foundatioii, 
Liberia oontains about three thousand free and happy citiaens, who havoreoiovod 
from oppression and bondage to the enjoyment or UbenJ institutions. The alavo 
trade has been utterly destroyed along its entire coast, formerly the most fro- 
quented market of human flesh ; and missionaries of every leading religious 
denomination of this country have made it their avenue to the bleawd w(wk of 
evangelizing Africa. 

It is not wonderfol that many errors and Iknlts have been committed in the 
prosecution of aa enterprise so stupendous and novel, upon a foreign and WBty 
distant shore, by an assoeiation of^ individuals. Perfoct wisdom and foresif^t 
belong not to man. Notther is it remarkable that chance of climate, or the cir. 
cnmstances of a new settlement, should produce much msease and death. 
. Nor shouU we bo sorprisedihiu a people so long liuaiMedaiid degraded, as 4ho 
colored peopki of this country, should, ma^y of tbam, fnefbr ii^onoas 9mp and 
indolence to the self jdenial and coonupsons «dv«ntOM o£ emigration, in seafeh of 
hardy independence. The long onsbived Israelitos prefen^ to die in Bgypt 
rather than encounter the fatigues and perils ot pilgrimage to the land or GaaMn. 

It is evident, however, that increased vtgilanoe is necessaiy on the outpoat •« 



7%c Colonizaium Cmat. 237 

well as the eitadel of our society. It is also tnie, that the ezperienoe of the past 
has corrected and enlarged the views of manj of the supporters of the cause. 
The doctrines of temperance and peace are now more fully understood than 
when our first settlements were formed ; and although we cannot compel thoee 
who are already in Liberia to their adoption, without a violation of those rights 
we profess to accord to them, yet we believe the spirit of the age requires some 
additional care over those whom we are vet to send. 

The immensity of the .undertaking also led the founders of the society to 
believe it to be beyond the grasp of private benevolence, and to seek the influence 
of great names, and legislative aid. This, and the location of the institution in 
a place so exclusively political as Washington, has excited the anxieties of many 
excellent and devoted friends of the cause ; and, although our allegiance to the 
parent institution is still unshaken, has induced the belief that the greater pros- 
perity of the^oause may be secured by smaller associations, at onee independent 
and auxiliary. 

The young men of Pennsylvania therefore united themselves together in the 
society, whose anniversary we now celebrate ; and undertook to carry into effect 
a permission given by the parent society to the well*known friend of the cause, 
who is now our foreign secretary, to establish a new colony on the coast of 
Africa. Our success, even at this early stage of the enterprise, has been beyond 
our warmest Jiope, and demands devovt thanksgivings to almighty God. 

The first impulse given to our efforts was in December, 1634, at a public meet, 
ing, our venerable friend and patron, the Right Rev. Bishop White, presiding. 
When our deceased vice president, whose memory is hallowed in a thousand 
hearts, and *at whose death so many good men wept,* the Rev. Dr. Bedell, 
seconded by the Right Rev. Bishop Doane of New Jersey, moved that efforts be 
made to raise the sum often thousand dollars for the purpose of founding a new 
colony. 

In April last the Young Men*s Colonization Society of Pennsylvania was orga. 
nized, from the following considerations : — 

1st. A belief that a direct appeal should be made to the benevolence and Chris- 
tian zeal of Pennyslvania, in favor of the establishment of a new colony upon 
the coast of Africa. 

9d. The necessity of prompt measures to carry into effect the will of Dr. Ay. 
lett Hawes, of Virginia, by which he manumitted more than a hundred slaves, on 
condition of their being sent to Liberia. 

dd. The carrying into practice in the new colony certain principles of poll, 
tical economy, as the fostering with greater care the agricultural interests, 
checking the deteriorating influence of petty and itinerant trafficking, maintain, 
ing the virtue of sobriety by obtaining from the colonists a pledge of abstinence 
from ardent spirits ; and by withholding all the common temptations and means 
for carrying on war, or for engaging in any aggressive steps upon the native 
population of Africa. 

How far we have been sustained by the liberality of our friends, our tree, 
surer's report will show ; and the account which has been already presented to 
the public of the sailing of the Ninus, 'on the 24th October, from Norfolk, with 
one hundred and twenty.nine emigrants, is a proof that we have not been alto, 
gether idle. These, we trust, are but the earnests of our future prosperity. 

l^y a happy arrangement lately concluded with the New. York Colonization 
Society, the energies of both institutions will be devoted to the prosperity of our 
infant colony at Bassa Cove ; while the interest of the parent board are secured 
by our pledge to pay into their treasury thirty per cent, of all the collections we 
n»y make within the limits of Pennsylvania, which is assigned to us as our 
field. 

Under these circumstances, we feel confident in commending pur eause to the 
good and the wise of Pennsylvania. We believe it to be the cause of mercy and - 
of God. The greater our experience of the effect of colonization, the greater is 
our conviction of its expediency and virtue. It is the most immediate relief we 
can give to the colored man, for it removes him at once from the influence of 
prejudice and oppression. 

It has proved itself to be, as colonization has done in all ages, the best method 
of elevating the negro character by exciting him to virtuous ambition and honor. 
able enterprise. It is the most e&ctual cure for the slave trade, by the substi. 
tution of a benign and liberal commerce for the traffic iii human flesh. It is the 



238 The Colonizatiah Cause, 

best and safeit method of promoting oTory obstacle— obviating OTory danger— 
Mlencing every ezciue— and indaeing frequent example, more efficaeions than 
volumes of argument or invective. It is the hope of Africa, in opening upon her 
benighted shores the fountain of life and knowledee. 

Our enterprise must succeed. A cause conceived in benevolence, and nurtured 
by prayer ; a soil, enriched by the ashes of so many devoted servants of God and 
Ainca, cannot be given up, and must not be lost. If God be for us, what matter 
it who they are that be against us. 

John Bbvgkenridoi, President. 



The Rev. Dr. Tyng,>f the Epiphany Church, in West Chesnut-street, then 
rose and addressed the meeting. 

Mr. Pr0jitf0n<,<» Although rarely disposed to use the language of apology, yet 
I feel it due to myself, to the cause for which I am about to speak, and to the 
audience before whom I stand, to si^ that I have been brought here to supply 
the place of another. The Rev. Mr. Breckenridge is detained in New. York by 
the unexpected death of his child ; and I have come (said Mr. T.) in foil confi. 
denee in your Christian charity, that you will make allowance for my feeble 
state of health, my total inability to make any pi^paration for the occasion ; and 
I will make the sacrifice of attempting under these unfavorable circumstances. 
I am indeed unprepared, without data ; but by the peculiar circumstances which I 
have mentioned, stirred up anew to promote the cause of Christian benevolence, 
I am ready to ofier at this shrine all my talents-^t is the cause of hmnanity — 
it is the cause of God, whose I am, and whom I serve. 

Though most of my ministry has been spent in a slave-holding state, or in that 
immediate vicinity ; yet I have come to the conclusion, that all we can do for 
benighted Africa — all that we can affect for degraded Africans here — ia by such 
efforts as we now are making. 

Men, sir, talk of colonization as a new idea ; but the whole history of man m 
a scheme of colonixation. Men of old traversed distant regions to make settle, 
ments, or to convey doctrines. Paul said, * from Jerusal«n round about lUyri- 
cum, I have preached the Gospel ;' and what, sir, is all this but colonization ? 

Colonization fomished our own existence as a Christian people, and as a 
nation of the earth. 

Could I place myself two centuries back on some spot of Europe, and point to 
the western world, and bid the people behold nations rising up on these distant 
shores. Churches growing and sending back to the old world the Gospel it had 
received therefrom, I could show the effect of colonization. We stand now, sir, 
at the distance of these two hundred years ; and now, by our efforts, not one 
colony alone, but all along the coast of Africa, the American name is known as 
the governing Q^use, and the God ofYiations as the God of Africa. 

When all history sustains the principles and facts of colonization, how shall 
men stand up and oppose colonization on grounds such as we occupy ? I feel 
myself^ sir, compelled, by every principle which God has given me, to aid colo. 
nization throughout the world. 

What, sir, is every missionary effort, but a successfol colonization scheme ? 
Look to Africa ; from the Cape of Good Hope along her eastern, and up her 
western coast, and at every line of radiation between, what is every misrionary 
station but a separate colony ? And what is the difibrenee in the plan of mis. 
sionary labors, and this of colonization ; but that, ii} one instance, separate indi. 
vidnals go and carry the principles of truth on which the colony is to be founded ; 
while, in the other case, the people go, and carry out the men and principles ? 
God hath cquaUy blessed both, and opposition from man cannot affect them. 

Within a century, the first attempt was made to establish a colony on that 
part of Africa where the poor, squalid Hottentot dragged out a miserable exist, 
ence— 4he lowest in the scale of humanity ; and now, sir, what is the ease ? 
Look at the missionary records, and they will show that nearly two thousand of 
thes^ African Christians are now carrying out the principles oi colonization, 
enjoying life as rational men and as Christians. 

And, sir, we read delightfol accounts of the Bush men, dug out of their cavee, 
and the abodes of fiHhy wretchedness, now risen to the standard of men, and 
repaying all efforts for them, by actaal contributions to the missionary cause in 
England. They, sir, hold their monthly meetings of prayer, and partieipale in 



The Cokmization Cau89. 289 

all tht antpnuiits of the Chnrtian world. And yot, with all theM fkett, we 
find men — twill not donbt their motiyet — ^their eoneeienees I may not judge--> 
but we find them in oppoaition to the great principlea which God haa approved 
as the aaYiBf inrinciplea of the world. And I beueve that young man cannot 
engafp in any enterprise more noble, than in carrying out the Gospel aystem of 
<^^^^iasmg good, aa ther do in colonization. 

I speak not here of the evils of slaTcij, though I know them all. I hare aeen 
with pain and regret, the deep anxiety of the Chriatian alaTcholder for the moral 
and. spiritaal welfare of his bondmen ; and I have mourned with the slave also, 
though I have not found among them that degree of misery and unhappiness 
which is imputed by many to their peculiar aituation. 

I have seen them sigh for liberty as the bird mourns ita oonfinement— as the 
nafledged bird beats itself against the bare of the cage, though ahe could not 
sustain herself upon the atmosphere with her untried wing. But, sir, here are 
the very wings iumiahed to the bird, and here the pure atmosphere for her trial ; 
here is given that liberty for which ahe sighed. 

I leave the question of slavery to other handa. I leave all political queations 
to others. I look upon this cause aa a Christian philanthropist ; and in my 
deaire to promote the best interest of slavea, and secure to them their natural 
rights, I inquire how .am I to do this ? By giving to them the ability to enjoy 
their right, and then placing them where they can enjoy it. 

Throughout our southern country, there is many a man who daily collecta his 
slaves, instructs them in the great things that belong to their good, and at even* 
ing kneels and prays with them himself, or employs a preacher to instruct them 
in Gospel truth. I correspond, sir, with a gentleman of high standing, (I apeak 
this to iUostrate, not boastingly,) who thus devotes himself to the good of those 
committed to his care, whose efforts God will prosper, though uninformed men 
may deride them, because they proceed from a alave-holder. Like Cowper, I 
abhor slavery, and deplore its evils. I know what those evils are ; but I know 
that they are not without alleviation. Colonization will afford a aystem of alle* 
viatiott ; but this is not all : it will civilize and Christianize a continent. Suppose 
every Christian had opposed the colonization, what could have been done for 
Africa 1 They are. the frienda of Africa, to whom eveiy regenerated Afncan 
owes the conversion of his soul. 

I know not, Mr. President, how long we may, though our ages are so unequal, 
be allowed to watch the efforts made by colonization societies. But Africa is to 
owe aU her regeneration to colonization. Should ahe be left to those who oppose 
thia system, she would come up to the great judgment with her handa stretched 
out for help, but stretched in vain. Sir, the friend of Africa ia the friend of 
colonization. 

After apologizing for my inability to address you at all, it may be wondered 
that I have addressed you so long ; and 1 should startle at the apparent incon. 
aialenoy myself, bht for the intereat of the subject upon which I have been called 
to speiUs : but I see a gentleman entering the meeting to whom you will listen 
with more pleasure. With hopes that the young men will continue their efforts, 
I conclude with great thanklulnesa for the patience with which I have been 
heard in the remarks that I have made. 

The Right Rev. B. B. Smith, bishop of Kentucky, then arose and addressed 
the meeting. 

Sir^ — As an adopted son of Kentucky, I appear with pleasure before this audi- 
ence* to bear testimony to the blessed effects of colonization upon slavery where 
I have been in a situation to make observations. 

Some think that colonization has done injury to the slave states. I think 
differently ; and I will detail a few causes for my opinion. For nearly four years 
I witnessed the operation of this system in Virginia, and I can safely bear testi* 
mony to ita happy influences there. 

Feqfile had looked a>ottt to see how slavery could be mitigated ; they dared 
not inquire openly ; -it was talked of in a low voice ; public discussion was 
frowned on. At length a few, a very few, friends of the colored race began to 
advocate the cause of colonization. Their character caused them to be listened 
to, and their exertions gradually brought the question before the public ; and 
what is the effisct ? Throughout that state a feeling has been evinced ; and the 
aubject ia now publicly discussed even in the legislative halls of that great state ; 



240 The Colonization Came, 

and many good men hare been enabled by this society to do justice to tbeir ner- 
rants. I have known the sacrifices of the pious, who have almost literally giyen 
up their all, in order to send back their slaves to their own land. 

But I wished to speak of the effects of colonization in th^ state of which I am 
an adopted son. Twelve years since, sir, a clergyman began to speak in that 
state of colonization ; and he was only heard because he was a Virginian by birth, 
and a Kentuckian by residence ; but now discussions are tolerated, which makes 
our state one of the foremost in the work. 

I will, sir, give you the synopsis of one of the best colonization speeches I 
have ever heard ; it was made by a plain working man. 

He observed that it had often been said, that the Kentuckians were the best 
politicians of any Americans of the same intelligence ; and this is true. Yet we 
have now^ve working men standing guard to keep one slave in order ; and this 
was the fact, because slave labor had reduced the character of workmen, and 
diminished the necessity for labor. For the present, this state of thin^ would 
be submitted to, but not long. There are only three ways by which we can 
avoid the evils of slavery — amalffamation, extermination, or colonization. Hu. 
man nature revolts at tne two first, therefore I am in favor of the latter. He 
might have added a fourth, viz. gnidual emancipation ; and a great proportion 
of the people of Kentucky are in favor of that measure. A society has been 
formed, and each member has pledged himself to free every slave born to him, 
at twenty.five years of age. The object is, that, at the end of a few years, this 
society might offer its example to the state, and ask its concurrence. At present 
the constitution of the* state is diametrically opposed to any such measure. 

Kentucky, sir, was settled from Virginia, by poor men, who took with them 
but few slaves ; and hence slavery was less strongly established there. The true 
republicanism of Kentucky dictated to most of these citizens the propriety of 
seeking some relief for their slaves ; and a large number of the most respectable 
Kentuckians, at the head of whom was the Hon. Henry Clay, asked from the 
legislature an amendment of the constitution to prohibit the introduction of 
slaves ; but, alas, exactly the opposite was the result ; and it was resolved that 
there diould be no legislative action on the subject. But there is a great de«re 
to call a convention on this very question ; and last winter a proposition was 
presented to the legislature of the state for this purpose : it was lost in the senate 
by a vote of 19 to 30. 

Of all the portions of our country, Kentucky has the most reason to deplore 
the effects of a slave population. Once, sir, the negro ran away from the white 
man — ^now the white man runs away from the negro ; and the best of our hardy 
citizens are removing rapidly to Illinois on account of slavery, so evidently 
injurious to an agricultural country. 

I have witnessed in Kentucky the efiects of colonization on Christian people ; 
and I know the joy and gratitude of their hearts that such an avenue is open for 
their relief; and I believe that a system of a series of colonies, devised here, will 
be seconded in Kentucky, by preparing colonists for their new homes. 

The colored population there are a better people than in the south, though 
certainly not so well prepared as could be desired ; yet from year to year many 
might be sent fully prepared, if colonization societies at the north and east would 
bear their expenses, to colonies founded on temperance and Christian principles. 

Travelling as I do several months every year, through a most magnificent 
country, burthened with only one evil, the curse of slavery — and witnessing as I 
do its blighting effects on the slave, and the curse of God on the master — how 
can I do otherwise than rejoice at any measures for sending the blacks to a 
place where they can be instructed in Christianity, and be blessed with liberty. 
My heart would be dead to every feeling if it did not weep with the negro ; and 
I bless every efibrt to let the captive go free. Judge, then, of my joy, at finding 
in New. York the young men uniting with their brethren in this city, in sending 
the black man to Africa, and praying to bless your enterprise. 

I leave the question of emancipation and colonization, and all other schemes 
of good, to others. My object has been to state that colonization has been admi. 
rably adapted to produce good in Kentucky ; * it has been good, only good, and 
that continually ;' and I have borne testimony to the fact with pleasure. 

I conclude with the hope that the Colonization Society may extend its usefsl. 
ness, and spread abroad science and religion, and satisfy all that this k a good 
way of blessing the colored race. 



V " 



a 

it 



je 



THE 

^hese 

METHODIST MAGAZINE,\ 

AND 

Vol. XVII, No. 3. JULY, 1886. N»w Sssn*— Vol. VI, No. 3. 

ADI8COURS£» 

Ddivered in the Methodist Hpiacopal Churchf in White Plaint^ WtM- 
che$ter county ^ JWtr-ForA;, on Dec, 25, 1834, in commemorcUion of 
the birth of our Lord Jesus Chrisl, and of the organization of the 






M. E, Churchy fifty years ago. By request of the Qiuarterly.Meet' 
ing conference of White Plains Circuit.^ By Hev. P. P. Sandfobd. 

' They shall caQ His mune Emmanuel ; whfcb, being interpreted, is God with ni.' 

Matt, i, 23. ' 

This is the day on which the Christian Churches have general!) 
agreed to celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ for the redemp- 
tion and salvation of the world ; and this day brings us to the fiftieth 
anniversary of the organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church : 
and we are assembled here this morning to celebrate both these events. 
Our brethren in the city of New- York, on calling to mind the fact, that 
this day would be the semi-centennial anniversary of the organization 
of our Churchy determined on its celebration among themselves, and 
invited their brethren in other places to unite with them therein. This 
led the Quarterly Meeting, conference of this (White Plains) circuit, 
at its last session, to pass a resolution to comply with the foregoing 
invitation, aild to request nie to preach on the occasion. I have, 
therefore, selected the text, which I have read in your hearing, as the 
foundation of the present discourse, that I might, in some measure, 
bring both these important events before the view of this congre- 
gation. 

The name Emmanuel is derived from three Hebrew monosyllables, 
viz. d;^ with u usj and hn God ; and therefore the evangelist has given 
it a literal translaetion in Ibe texL The Messiah was prophesied of, 
under this appellation, by the Prophet Isaiah, more than seven hundred 
years before the time ei our Savior's birth, (see Isa. vii, 14.) This 
prediction is quoted in this text, and applied by Matthew to our Lord 
Jesus Christ ; and it is herein declared to have its fulfilment ifi his 
birth. There is also a strong resemblance to the terms of the text in 
the dying words of that great and good mauythe Rev. J. Wesley, who, 
under God, was the founder of Methodism; viz. '^ The best of all is, 
Grod is with us." He believed and taught, as a fundametital truth ot* 
Christianity, that Jesus Christ is God with us; i. e. the incarnate 
Deity, who dwells in his Church, and iu the hearts of his believing 
Vol. YI July, 1835. 21 



V 



2^/1 Semicentennial 

and if* ^^ ^^® ^^^ ^^ ^^ doctrine there is abundant pMof, in the 
yani^tions of the Old Te&taflaent, and in the declarations of the New 
u^tament — in the history of His birth. His lifbi His death, His resur- 
rection from the dead, His ascension to heaven — ^in His teaching, both 
' as it respects His doctrines and moral precepts, and in the claims 
J which He made to an equality with God — ^in* His miracles and prophe- 
cies — in the history of His Church during the early ages, especially 
/ on the day of pentecost, and during the apostolic age ; and indeed, in 
every succeeding age, down to the present time. Therefore Jesus 
Christ is the incarnate God, who is present with His Church, and 
dwells in the heartu of His people. My design, at present, is to call 
your attention to the fact, that Jesus Chnst, as the incarnate God, has 
been with the Methodist Episcopal Church, and that He is still with 
this Church, as its Divine Lord, and its heavenly Head« In doing 
this, however, I do not intend to intimate, that He is exclusively with 
this Church ; but that He has ever been, and still is with it, as with a 
branch of His mystical and visible body upon earth. This I shall 
endeavor to show by the following observations : — 

I. On the circumstances which led to the organization of the Metho- 
dist Episcopal Church. "" 

The Rev. J. Wesley, who, under God, was the founder of Metho- 
dism, was strictly educated in high Church principles, as a member 
^d minister of the Church of England. He early in life obtained a 
ellowship in Lincoln College, University of Oxford, England, which 
placed him in easy circumstances ; and had he continued in it, would 
have secured him a competence during life. His attachments to a 
college life were very strong ; so much so, that he resisted the most 
pressing solicitations of his father, and others of his intimate friends, to 
accept of a curacy under his father, with a view to becoming his suc- 
cessor in his rectory. In the year 1729, Mr. Wesley, his bro&er 
Charles, and a few other persons, began more seriously than before to 
consider the nature of Christian holiness, with a view to their own 
spiritual improvement, and their personal conformity to its principles. 
They drew up for themselves very strict rules of life, apd determined 
to conform themselves to these rules with the greatest possible exact- 
ness. They lived very abstemiously ; were regular in their lives and 
studies ; and commenced the practice of visiting the sick poor in the 
vicinity of Oxford, and the prisoners, with a view to communicate 
instruction, to pray with them, and administer medicine gratuitously, 
and other alms : in which course of benevolence, they literally gave 
away every thing they could spare from tiieir present necessities. The 
regularity of their lives and studies caused them to be denominated 
Methodists ; and their serious, self-denying^ religious, and benevolent 
conduct, being a reproach to all around them, drew upon them the 
unofBcial censures of their superiors in the university, and the ridicule 
of many of the students. ' 

In 1736, Mr. Wesley, accompanied by his brother Charles, was 
induced to leave his beloved retirement at the university, and come 
over to America as a missionary tQ the Ihdians. While on his pas- 
sage, and during his residence in Savannah, Georgia, he became, 
acquainted with certain pious Moravians, by iKtbom he was instructed 
into the nature of justifying faith, and experimental godliness. On his 



V 



>s 



Semi'Ceniennial IHseour$e. ^^^ 

return to England in 173S, he received farther instniction on tbeae 
subjects from P. Bohler, a Moravian minister. He, and his brother. 
Charles, were soon brought to the experience of justification by faith 
in Christy and the knowledge of salvation^ by the remission of their 
sins ; and they began to publish these doctrines, first, in the Churches 
in the city of London, and, when these were shut against them, in the 
open air. They now commenced. their itinerant ministry through the 
kingdom ; memy were converted through their instrumenStality, and, at 
their own request, w^re taken under dieir pastoral care, and formed 
into societies. The first of these societies was formed in London, in 
the year 1739. In 1742, Mr. Wesley was providentially led to form 
lus societies into smaller companies called classes. They had erected 
a house of worship in Bristol ; by doing of which they had contracted 
a considerable debt Several persons met together to devise means 
to liquidate this debt, when one of the company proposed that they 
should divide the society into classes of twelve persons each, and that 
one of the number should collect a penny a week from each membei; 
€>£ his class. This was accordingly done ; and the leader — ^for so he 
was afterward denominated — in calling bn his members weekly for 
their subscription, was led to an acquaintance with their deportment ; 
and it was soon discoverefd that some of the members did not Uve 
agreeably to their profession, and that others had trials and temptations 
under which they needed counsel aad encouragement When Mr. 
Wesley was informed of this, he said, ' This is the very thing we 
want' This led him to form his societies into classes in every place. 
It was soon found that the weekly visitation of the members, at their 
houses, required more time than many of the leaders could spare ; and 
therefore it was concluded, that they should hold weekly class meet- 
ings. The work accumulated upon the hands of the two brothers to 
such an extent, that they so6n found it impossible to attend to it with- 
out farther aid ; but this it was very difficult to procure. Most of the 
clergy were opposed to them ; and some of them were among their 
most bitter persecutors. But God provided for dii? also. In Mr. 
Wesley's absence from London, Thomas Maxfield, a young man who 
was a member of his society, began to preach. As soon as Mr. Wes- 
ley heard of this, he hastened to London with an intention to stop him. 
But, before he had an opportunity of seeing Maxfield, his mother — a 
woman of more than ordinary learning, intelligence, and piety, who 
had heard him preach-^-said to her son, * John, take care what you do, 
for Uiat young man is as certainly called of God to preach the Gospel 
as you are.' This determined Mr. Wesley 00 hearing Maxfield him- 
self, which he accordingly did, and therefore became convinced that he 
was truly called of God to preach the Gospel ; and he immediately 
employed him to aid himself and his brother in this work. From ibiB 
time lay preachers were employed as assistants in spreading Scrip- 
toral holiness throughout England and Wales ; and soon afler through 
Scotland and Ireland. In the year 1744 Mr. Wesley held his .first 
confereiijce with several clergymen who Had united with him in this 
work,^and some of his lay preachers. From this time conferences 
have been annually held among the Methodists. At these conferences 
tkey considered their doctrines, and their entire course of procedure ; 
and, at the same time, Mr. Wesley appointed his lay preachers to their 



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Semi-Ceniennial Diieonr$e. 



several fields of labor. The work of God mightily prevailed through 
> their instrumentality. Thousands, and tens of thousands, were con- 
. verted to God ; and many of them died in the triumphs of the Chris- 
^tian faith. Many of the wicked and profligate were thoroughly re- 
formed, especially among the lower orders of the community ; and 
many of the more respectable also were made partakers of the salva- 
tion of the Gospel. But, for several years, persecution -raged, with 
implacable fury, against almost the entire Methodist community ; and 
especially agauist the preachers, not excepting Mr. Wesley and his 
brother. But hone of these things nioved them, for they knew that 
God was with them. 

Before Mr. Wesley's missionaries reached this continent, several 
families of German Irish Methodists had emigrated to this country 
and settled in the city of New- York ; among whom was Mr. P. Em- 
bury, a local preacher. But most of these emigrants had lost the 
spirit of piety, and become loose in their moral luibits. In the year 
1766, another family of these German Irisli Methodists came over, and 
settled among their former brethren in the city of New- York. The 
name of this family was Hick. Mrs. Hick, a deeply pious woman, on 
visiting one of these families, found several persons* who had been 
members of the Methodist Society in Ireland, playing at cards. With 
a ho4y indignation she threw the cards into the fire ; and repairing to 
€he house of Mr. Embury, Bhe*strongly insisted on his calling the 
emigrants together, a^d preaching to. them. He accordingly preached 
his first sermon, iii America, to nve persons in his own house. After 
this they hired a room adjoining to the barracks, in which he preached. 
They also united together as a society, under the direction of Mr. £m- 
buiy, in that year^ which was the first Wesleyan Methodist Society on 
tJiis eoniinent. Soon after this they were visited by Lieutenant Webb, 
commonly known as Captain Webb, at that time a bi(rrack-master at 
Albany, and a local preacher in the Methodist Society. He preached 
to them in his military costume, the novelty of which soon attracted 
attention, and caused a great increase to their congregation. Their 
place of worship now became too small, and they hired a rigging loft 
in William-stfeet, and afllerward preached to listening multitudes. in the 
open fields. 

About the same time R. Strawbridge, another Irish local preacher, 
settled in Maryland, and began to preach the Gospel there. Houses 
of worship were erected in the city of New- York, and near Pipe Creek, 
in Maryland ; and Mr. Wesley was applied to for assistance. Two 
missionaries (Messrs. Boardman and Pilmore) were sent over in 
1769, wbo were the first regular Wesleyan Methodist preachers that 
visited this country. Others soon followed ; and, in the year 1771, 
Mr. Asbury, and a Mr. Wright, came over to assist in carrying on the 
work so happily commenced. These missionaries were men of God, 
whose hearts were m tiieir work ; and they preached with great sue- 
'Cess. Societies were raised up,nk>uls were converted, and the woik 
was extended ibrough their tabora. • 

As the war of the revolution soon broke out, idl these missionaries, 
exoept Mr. Asbury, returned to England. But preachers were raised 
4ip in this country ; and ihough they met with great difficulties, and 
Mome of them were severely persecuted and imprisoned, this cause 



V 



continued to increase. In addkioa to the ottier difficulties wbicb the 
Methodists had to eocounier at this timOfthef were not a Church; 
their preachers were all laymen, and therefore could not administer 
the sacraments of the Gospel to their people. Tory few of the minis- 
ters of any denomination were friendly to theni« The Rev. Mr. Jar- 
rett, of Virginia, and the Rev* Mr. Ogden, of New-Jersey, were, per- 
haps^ the osAy clergymen who were wilUng to attend their meetings, 
and administer the sacraments to the members of the societies. Be- 
side, during the war, many of the clergy lefl the country ; so that in 
many places, especially south of the Chesapeake, there were no minis- 
ters to be found, for many miles together, to* admimsler the sacraments. 
Under these circumstances, the prea^ers, who were travelling in the 
southf determined on having ordination among themselves. They 
accordingly appointed a committee of their own number to ordain* 
These first prdiuned one another, and then proceeded to ordain their 
brethren; after which they administered the sacraments to such of 
their people as would consent to receive them at their hands. To this 
procedure of the southern preachers their northern brethren were very 
stron||^]y opposed. They therefore determined to put a stop to diese 
proceedings, or to exclude the southern preachers from their connec- 
tion. Messrs. Asbury, Wm. Waiters, and F. Garrettson were appointed 
to attend the conference in Tirginia, and negotiate this matter with 
their southern brethren. Thif they accordingly did. But, for some 
time, there appeared to be* no prospect of an amicable adjustment of 
the difficulty, until finally Mr. Asbury proposed that the soothem 
preachers should suspend dieir administration of the sacraments for 
one year, and meet their northern brethren in conference, at Baltimore, 
the next year ; and that, in the meantime, Mr. Wesley should be con- 
sulted, and his counsel and aid obtained, in regard to ihis matter. This 
proposition was acceded to on the part of the southern preachers, and 
peace and brotherly amity were accordingly restored. But, in the 
midst of all the difficulties and discouragesaents with which these 
preachers and their societies had to contend, the Lord continued to 
prosper their labors. In the year 1776 they had 24 travelling preach^ 
ers, and 4,921 members in society ; and in 1784 they had increased 
to S3 travelling preachers, and 14,988 members ; that is, in eight 
years;, in the midst of war^ persecution, and a privation of the sacra^ 
ments of the Gospel, and many other difficulties, their nett increase 
amounted to 59 travelling preachers, and 10,067 members of society* 
Beside this increase, the thousands who had died in the Lord, and 
entered into the joys of paradise, as the fruits of the labors of these 
faithful missionaries of the cross of Christ, go to prove that God was 
with them in a;n eminent manner* 

II. On the organizalicHi of the Methodist Episcopal Churph. 
Mr. Wesley^ who, as has already been observed, had been edu- 
cated in high Church principles ; and for many years was strongly, 
and%.perhaps, in some respects, even superstitiously attached to the 
rites and institutioBs of the Church of England, of which he continued 
io be a minister to the day. of his death ; and who, through life, avoided* 
as much as possible, every departure from the canons of that Chorchi 
even in matters which he judged to be lawful ; from his paramount 
love to the cause of God and the souls of men, whenever be became 

21* 



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,1246 Stmi-CctifeiifiMii Abeoiirit* 

' convinced that God caHed bim to act for the pfomotion of His canae 

and the salvation of souls, never hesitated to go forward in the per- 

'^ formance of the duty, whatever sacrifice of feeling, interest, ease^ or 

honor, he might be called to make, or let who would oppose him. 

Not that he was rash and inconsiderate. No- man could be farther 

/from rashness and inconsiderateness than he was. He sought every 
where for information ; and was willing to hear, and carefully to weigh, 
every objection, which his friends or enemies might urge against his 
measures. But, when he was fully satisfied that he ought to act, he 
was perfectly inflexible. Under such circumstances, nothing could 
^ turn him from his purpose. 

If- Lord King's account of the cmistitution of the early Christian Church 

had convinced him, many years before the organization of the Metho* 
dist Episcopal Church, that, in the primitive Church, bishops and pres- 
byters were of the same order ; and that therefore presbyters possessed 
an inherent right, by virtue of their ofiice, to ordain men to &e minis- 
try* He therefore believed that he had a right, by virtue of his presby- 
terial office, when called to it in the order of Divine Providence, to 
ordain* But still there were such objections existing in his mind 
against the expediency of his exercising tins right under the then exists 
ing circumstances, that, for several years, he continued to resist the 
strongest solicitations to exercise his prerogative, and ordain some jof 
his lay preachers to the ministry. Byt, in respect to his societies in 
the United States of America, after duly examining the subject in all 
its bearings, he saw his way perfectly clear to act ; inasmuch as bcfth 
the civil and ecclesiastical government of Great Britain had entirely 
ceased in this country, and there was no one who pretended to claim 
any ecclesiastical authority whatever over the Methodist Societies in 
these United States, except that which was claimed by himself and his 
assistants ; and his counsel and aid had beeti asked by these societies* 
In this case therefore he was ready to act. 

Having matured the plan in his own mind, and consulted Dr. The* 
mas C<^e, a presbyter of the Church of En^and, who had been for 
several years va, close connection with him, and obtained the doctor's 
consent to his proposed plan ; Mr. Wesley, aided by the doctor and 
the Rev. Mr* Creighton, another clergyman of the Church of England, 
proceeded to ordain Messrs. Richard Whatcoat and iThomas Yasey to 
the office of presbyters or elders — a word of the same import ' These 
persons had ofiered themselves to Mr. Wesley, as missionaries to 
America. Afler this Mr. Wesley proceeded to set apart Dr. Coke to 
the office of a superintendent or bishop, giving him letters patent under 
his hand and seal, and directing him to proceed forthwith to America, 
to organize an independent Episcopal Church amoug his, societies in 
these United States, and to set apart Mr. Fnoicis Asbury to the epis- 
copal office. 

The doctor and his companions accordingly set sail, and landed in 
New-York on the 3d day of November, 1784. He found Mr. Asbury 
in the state of Delaware ; and by an arrangement made between them 
Ike 'preachers were notified to meet in general conference at Baltimore, 
en Uie ensuing Christmas day, to take into consideration the proposed 
plan 0f a Church organization. On Christmas day they accordingly 
asseoaUed in the city of Baltimore, when the plan devised by Mr* 



r \ 

V 

Wesley was laid before tkemt and adopted;* and Aej accordingly ^- 
formed themselves into an inde^ndent Ghurdiy under the title of * The ^ 
Methodist Episcopal Church.' Dr. Coke was acknowledged as one 
of their superintendents, agreeably to Mr. Wesley's appointment 
Though Mr. Asbury had been appointed by Mr. Wesley a joint super^ 
intendent with Dr. Coke^ he refused to act as such unless elected to 
this office by the conference. This election, however, he obtained by 
a unanimous vote ; and he was accordingly ordained a deacon on 
Christmas day. On the 26th he was ordained an elder, and a super- 
intendent on the 27tbf several elders assisting Dr. Coke in his ordina* 
tion ; among whom wa^ Mr. Otterbine, a pious German Presbyterian 
minister, who was added by the special request of Mr. Asbury. 

They also ordained several of the preachers to the offices of deacons 
and elders; and having made several other necessary regulations, 
they adjourned the conference. 
IIL On its constioition. 

They were now formed into a regabr Episcopal Church, wifli 
bishops, elders, and deacons, all of whom were made elective and 
responsible. The supreme authority of this Church, under God, is 
vested in the general conference. This conference is now composed 
of the bishops, who are its presidents, but have no vote among its 
members ; and of a certain proportion of delegates, chosen by each 
annual conference from arnon^^ its elders. As die •general conference 
is now a dejegated body, its powers are so restricted that it cannot do 
away the Episcopacy^ nor the general itinerant snperintendency. Nei- 
ther can it alter any of the articles of r^igion, the general rules of the 
^-4iociety ; nor do away the privileges of the ministers, preachers, nor 
private nfiembets, of a trial by their peers, and of an appeal ; nor appro- 
' priate the produce of the Book Concern, nor of the Charter Fund, to 
any other purposes than those to which they are now deVoted by the 
existing canons of the Church. Under these limitations, this confer- 
ence, which meets quadrennially, has full .powers to make rules and 
regulations for the Church; it also possesses judiciary powers in 
respect to the bishops, and appellant powers in respect to the members 
of the several annual conferences, which are severally composed of all 
the travelling ministers within their bounds. 

All the bishops of this Church possess co-ordinate powers. A 
bishop is constituted by the election of a general conference, and the 
laying on of the hands of three bishops, or of one bishop and two 
elders; except there should be no. bishop, in which case any three 
elders, who may be appointed for that purpose by the general confer- 
ence, may perform the consecration service. It is made the doty of 
a bishop to travel at large through the conferences ; to take the general 
superii^endence of the spiritual and temporal concerns of the Church ; 
to preside in the general and annual conferences ; to appoint the tra- 
velling ministers and preachers to their several stations ; and to ordain 
elected persons to the offices of elders and deacons. A bishop is 
responsible to the general conference Car his moral, Christian, and 
official conduct. 

* Jene Lee, in his Histoiy of the Methodists/eaye, it was on the 37th day of 
December { whieh is evidently a mistalce, as -Mr. Asbaiy was ordained a deaeon 
at that conference on the 25th. See the certifica^ of his ordination in his Jour- 
nal, as giren. under the hand of Dr* Coke, vol. i, p. 378. 



^.. 



M TB^# B^^^^^V \^iWvp^^^^^Wv ^ Mlm9^^m^^9^F^^^% 



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^ A tniTelling elder is constituted by the eleotion of an anaiial confeN 
' eoce, and the laying on of<the hands of « bishop, assisted hj sereral el- 
ders. Before any person can be-thus elected and ofdatnedt he must have 
exercised the office of a travelling deaeon for two yeavs ; except in the 
case of missionanes. An elder is to do all the duties of a traveUtng 
4 preacher, to administer the sacraanents of baptism and the eucharist, and 
^ celebrate marriage. He is amenable to an annual conference for his 
^ moral, Christian, and ministertal conduct. A presiding elder differs 
^ from others, only by his being appointed to the charge of a district 
It is his duty to travel through his district, attend the quarterly meet* 
^ ings of the several circuits, hold quarterly meeting conferences for the 

^ transaction of the circuit business, (whidi conferences are to be com- 

posed of the travelling and local ministers and preachers, exhorters, 
^ class leaders, and stewards of the circuit,) and to take the oversight of 

^ all the travelling and local ministers and preachers, aad the exhorters 

of his district, sc. Local elders are constituted by the recommenda- 
tion of a quarterly meeting conference, the election of an annual can- 
ference, and the laying on of the hands of a bishop, and several elders. 
They are amenable to a quarterly meeting, conferenee ; and are to 
perform all the functions of the ministiy, occasionally, except the 
pastoral duties. 

A travelling deacon is constituted by the electioa of an annual con- 
ference, and the laying on. of the hynds of a bishop. Before a 
preacher can be thus ordained, he must have been received on trial in 
an annual conference, have travelled two years, and been received 
into full membership with the conference, by the vote of its members. 
A deacon is to perform all the duties of a travelling preacher, to assist 
the elder in the administration of the Lord^s Supper, to administer 
baptism, and to celebrate marriage. He is amenable to an annual 
conference, in the same manner as an elder. A local preacher may 
be constituted a deacon, after he has held die office of a licensed 
preacher for four successive years, on the recommendation of a quar- 
terly meeting conference, by the election of an annual conference, and 
the laying on of the hands of a bishop.* Local preachers are consti^ 
tuted, on the recommendation of the class of niiichtheyare members, 
or of a leaders' meeting, by the election of a quarterly meeting 
conference, and the certificate of a presiding elder. Exhorters are 
licensed by the minister in charge of the circuit, on thei«commendation 
of (he class, as aforesaid, or of a leaders' meeting. Circuit stewards 
are elected by the quarterly meeting conference on die nominatioQ of 
the minister in charge. Class leaders are appointed by the minister- 
Private members of the Church are first admitted by the minister On a 
probation of six months ; at the expiratioB of winch time, provided 
their conduct has been satisfactory to the society, and they are 
recommended by their leader, the minister, after due and satisfac- 
tory examination, may admit. them into full membership in the 
Church. 

But, it has been objected, by persons holding high Church principles, 
that the Methodist Episcopacy is invalid, because Mr. Wesdey, from 
whom it emanated, was only a presbyter. To this it may be replied, 
that some of the leading men among the English reformers, especially 
Archbishop Cranmer, was of Mr. Wesley's opinion ; vis. that bishops 



\v 



Smni-OmiemiiUi DUeautn. 249 

and presbyters were mginalljr of Ae same order. If so the Mediodist 
Episcopacy is valid. Others, who were men of high Church princi- 
ples, acknowledged Aat Episcopal ordination (though of Divine right, 
as they asserted,) is not absolutely necessary to a valid Christian 
ministry. And others a^n» who would not admit the correctness of 
the opinion last stated, did nevertheless acknowledge, that, in a case of 
Necessity, Episcopal ordination might be dispensed with. Now the 
validity of Mediodist Episcopacy may be maintained on any or all 
these grounds. Mr. Wesley professedly acted on the first And 
on that ground there can be no question concerning his right to ordain. 
According to &e second opinion of some of the English reformers, 
the validity, of Methodist ordination cannot be disputed. But if neither 
of these could be sustained, the third opinion, which appears to have 
been admitted by the most rigid Episcopidians among these early 
reformers, will, it is presumed, fully justify the course pursued by Mr. 
Wesley and the American Methodists, and consequently prove the vali- 
dity of Methodist Episcopacy. From the facts which have been briefly 
stated in ^e preceding part of this discourse, the necessity of the case 
was sucb, that every candid and unprejudiced mind, it is presumed, will 
readHy acknowledge the propriety of using any lawful means, by which 
the existing evils might be removed. The questions to be resolved 
were : Shall thousands of Christians live and die without the Christian 
sacraments ; and tens of thousands of the children of Christian parents 
grow op without Christian baptism ? Or shall their stated teachers he 
au&orized to administer the^e sacraments to them ? Now, who would 
hesitate to acknowledge, if necessity can justify a departure from ordi- 
nation by Episcopal succession in any case, that it was justifiable in 
the case before us ? If any should be found who, afler considering all 
the above grounds of justification of the course pursued by Mr. Wes- 
ley and the American Methodists, still deny that the Methodist Epis- 
copacy is valid ; and continue to assert, that nothing can justify a 
departure from ordination, by a regular Episcopal succession from the 
apostles ; it is presumed that they will find but few, among candid 
and enlightened Christians, who will deliberately agree with them ; 
and they are requested to sit down, and make out their regular Epis- 
copal succession, before they bring the want of it as an objection 
against the validity of the ministry of the Methodist Episcopal Church. 

lY. On its government. 

In exalninkig into the government of the Metho^st Episcopal 
Church, it must not be forgotten, that it is a great itinerant system ; 
and that this itinerancy could not coqtinue to exist, and its operations 
be facihtated, without great sacrifices on the part of its itinerant minis- 
tiy, and a cordial consent on the part of its local ministers and its 
'members in general, to that part of its economy which places the 
government into the hands of the itinemnt ministers. While, therefore, 
the great body of the Methodist people shall continue to prefer an 
itinerant to a local ministry, they will prefer the present form of 
government to any other which might be substituted in its place ; but, 
as soon^as they grow weary of this system, and determine to have 
local pastors of their own immediate selection, they will take the 
govenfiment of the Church into their own hands, and the itineranoy 
witt come to an end. The authority invested in the ministers of this 



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250. SMM-CmlemiM Di$ea¥in9k 






Church is fully suBtaioed by the New Testameot And it k wor&y of 

remark, that it not only has been exereised for the good of the private 

members of the Church ; but that it is especially calculated for their. 

spiritual improvement It imposes nothing upon them whidi is rigid 

or severe. The travelling ministers have to sustain the greatest bwr- 

f dens, to make the greatest sacrifices, and possess the sm^est earthly 

' advantages of any class of its members. The bishops are placed 

under the severest restrictions, and are called to perform the most 

> laborious service of any persons over vrhom this Church exercises a 

jurisdiction. Next to .them, the travelUng minislers and. preachers 

t have to make the greatest sacrifices, and perform the most laborious 

service, and that, in general, with a very scanty and uncertain support, 

while the local ministers. and preachers, and the private members of 

/ the Church are left to pursue Uieir honest worldly avocations at their 

^ pleasure, and not even one cent of their property can be taken from 

them, without their own consent, by any of Uie authorities of the Church. 

J^ This is not designed to disparage the local, ministry of the Chucrh* 

Many of the local ministers and preachers make considerate sacrifi- 
ces of their time and their money, in the service of the Chivch, while 
they look for no earthly reward for these sacrifices and services ; aod 
many times, while the. members of the Church look with cold indtfier- 
ence upon thieir labors of love. The travelling ministers do notstipu- . 
late with the people, to serve them for a competent support. They 
come to them in the name of the Lord, leaving it with .them to say 
whether they shall be supported or not ; and many times they are not 
so much as asked one question on the subject by the committee of the 
quarterly conference, by whom their allowance is determined ; nor even 
so much as informed by them what amount they are to receive for their 
support, till more than one half the year has expired for which the appro- 
priation is made. When the appropriation is thus made known to these 
itinerants, they must be satisfied with it, however scanty ; and if the 
people do not voluntarily pay it, they must be. contented to do without 
it : and it frequently happens that one half the appropriation remains 
unpaid for ever. These statements are made, at the present, not by way 
of complaint, but of illustration ; and to, repel the unjust insinuations 
of many of the enemies of this Church. As the pastors of the people, 
it is made the duty of these itinerant ministers to watch over them in the 
Lord ; to urge them to the performance of their Christian and relative 
duties ; to reprove such of them as act inconsistently with their Chri^ian 
profession ; to preside in all ecclesiastical trials among Mie people of 
their charge ; and to excommunicate sudi membeni a;^ ^ve been foaad 
guilty of a violation of the canons of the Church* by a committee of 
their lay brethren, acting as jurors in the case. But, the membership 
of each individual, and his Church privileges are so secured to him by 
the constitution of the Church, that it is not in the power- of any minis- 
ter, or of all the ministers combined, to deprive him of them, by virtue of 
any authority invested in the ministers of the Church; 
y. On its doctrines. 

These have been sufiiciently proved to be the same as those of the 
Church of England, as contained in her articles, liturgy^and homilies, 
by Messrs. Wesley and Fletcher. And that they are the doctrines of 
the Holy Scriptures, has not only been proved by them« but by many 






other vritms, and Id tH the Methodist pulfnts in Europe and America. 
I shall not, tfaerelforet detain you longer upon them at the present They 
are, evidently, in the general, the doctrines of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
who is the incarnate God, and who has owned them in the conversion 
and final salvation of myriads of souls. 

YL On its diacipline. This abo is manifestly'founded on, and 
drawn from the word of jGoA ; and it is highly calculated to promote 
the' spirit and practice of Christian holiness and Scriptural mondity, 
which ought to he the end of all ecclesiastical disciplitae ; and, in its 
requirements and results, gives sufficient evidence that it has the sane- 
tion of the great Head of the Church. 

YII. On its institutions. 

Under this head we might notice class meetings, love feasts, watch* 
ni^ts, quarteriy meetings, and missionary, Bihle, Sunday school, and 
tract societies; and also its literary institutions, and the Book Concern, 
ineludittg its periodicals* But it is impossible to enlarge upon all these, 
within our presort limits. Some of these are well calculated to keep 
alive, in the minds of Christians, the spirit of piety, and to influence 
them to the practice of every Christian duty : especially weekly class 
meetings. The Missionaty Society of the M. £. Church specially 
deserves a passing notice, as it has done more toward the evangeliza- 
tion of the world, in proportion to the time it has existed, and the scanty 
means it has been able to empk>y, than any other similar institution of 
the present age. But we should never lose sight of the fact« that the 
Methodist Episcopal Church is a great missionary institution ; and 
that every one of its travelling ministers and preachers is a missionaiy. 
The Sunday school society, too, has done much toward the education 
of the rising generation, in religion and morals : and a laudable zeal 
has been manifested among the ministers and members of this Church, 
in many places, upon this subject. Mr., Wesley was one of the first 
to promote the Sunday school cause in England ; and Mr. Asbury in 
this country. Mr. Wesley may also be ranked among the fathers of 
the tract %ause, as he wrote and published many religious tracts, which 
he circulated gratuitously, for many years before a tract society was 
in existence. The cause of literature also lay near his heart ; and 
the'two literary institutions under the Wesleyan Methodists in England, 
though they Imd not collegiate powers, are said to stand very high in 
pobhc estimation, for affording young men an opportunity to obtain a 
solid, classical education. The first bishops, too, of the M. £. Church, 
showed a laudable zeal in the cause of literature, by using all their in- 
fiu^ice to establish' a college, under the protection of the Church over 
which they presided. Cokesbuiy College was the firuit of this zeal. 
But it would appear that the time had not then come in which the 
providence of God would favor this design among the Methodists ; and, 
therefore, after it had been in operation about ten years, it was burned 
to the ground, and never rebuilt. Other attempts of a «imilar nature 
were subsequently made without success. . Recently, however, the 
literary institutions of the M. £. Church, both academies and col- 
leges, have .risen up in different parts of the country, and, considering 
their slender endowments, promise much. One thing^ is especially 
worthy of remark concerning them, viz. that revivals of religion have 
been more or less identified witii them ; and the students, mstead of^ 



V 



A 



t 



i 



/ 252 SflMJ-CffileiiiiMrf Di$c9m$^ 

being corrupted by becomiiig the inmates of these institiitioiiSt are more 
likely to become religious by being placed in them, than by b^ngkept 
under their paternal roofs. 

YIII. On its growing prosperity. ' 

Ever since the organization of the Churchy the Methodists in thur 
country have been multiplying mueb faster than they ever did before. 
Revivals of religion commenced^ almost every where within the limits 
of the Church, soon after its organization : so that the Church grew 
with the growth of the country ; extended with its new settlements ; 
«/ and increased continually with its increasing population. The result of 

which is, that it now numbers 638,784 Church members, and 2,625 
travelling ministers and preacher^. As we have already noticed, at 
the time of the organization of the Church, they numbered 14,988 
/ members, and 83 travelling preachers ; so tiiat in fifty years the nett 

increase of Chmrch members is more than forty-six times greater ; and 
that of the travelling ministers and preachers, more than thirty-one and 
a half times greater than they were at the time when the Church was 
organized. What hath God wrought ! Surely, Jesus Christ,^ the incar- 
nate God, the great Head of the Church, has been with this branch of 
His myertical body on earthy in an eminent manner, during the fifty 
years of its existence* 

IX. On the great moral and spiritual effects which have resulted 
from its operations. 

In s]^eaking of the great moral-and spiritual advantages which have 
resulted from the existence of the M. E« Church, in tlus country, we 
are not to confine ourselves to those who .are now its members. We 
should look, first, at tlie hundreds of thousands of souls which have 
been saved from guilt and depravity through its instrumentality ; and 
who, after exerting a beneficial influence upon their county and 
indeed upon all classes of their fellow men, have finidly died in the 
fellowship of this Church, in the faith of the Gospel, and in the peace of 
God ; and are now safely lodged in Abraham's bosom. But, secondly, 
the influence of the M. E. Church has not been confined to tfiose who 
have become its members. Tens of thousands, yea, hundreds of 
thousands, it is presumed, who have been converted to God through 
the instrumentality of the Methodists, have joined other Churches, and 
become ornaments to their communions. Thirdly, we are not to stop 
even here. Methodism has exerted a beneficial influence upon most 
of the other Churches throughout this widely-extended country. Their 
doctrines have become more pure, their preaching more evangelical, 
their lives more holy tltfough this influence ; and multitudes, in all pro- 
bability, have been saved through the instrumentality of these other 
Churches, who never would have been, but for 4he influence which 
the M. £. Church has exerted upon them. Fourthly, we are not to 
stop even here. Methodism has exerted an influence upoi» the Ameri- 
can community, which has done more than can be estimated to promote 
the growing prosperity, the peace, and especially the good morals of 
the country at large. And^ fifthly, it 4ias exerted a great amount of 
, moral and spiritual influence upon the abor^ineS' of this country ; 
and extended it^ through American commer^et to almost every part 
of the world. Surely, therefore, we may say in trudir that Jesus 
• Christ is God xpxih iit. He has,, evidei^ly, pcesided over the destinies 



Smm CmiUmnial Dmmnn^ 253 

^ the M. S. Qraidi for fifty fesra. He prepared the way, in his 
providence, and bj his grace, for its organization. He caused that 
organization to be effected. He has been with its ministers and 
members, and sustained them in their arduous labors and their various 
trials. He has been with their assemblies. He has dwelt by his 
Spirit in the hearts of all its faithful members. And, therefore, we may 
say with the dying Wesley, * The best of all is, God is with us.' 
Now, as God has thus been with this Church for fifty years ; and as 
He is evidently with it still, as its present growing prosperity evinces, 
we have reason to believe that He will continue to be with it.-— 
He certainly will be, if its ministers and members continue to be with 
Him. And then, what may we not calculate upon in respect to the 
future \ If the M. £. Church should continue to flourish and increase 
for fifty years to come, as she has done for the fifty years that are past, 
how vast would be the extent of her influence m the wcH-ld, how 
numerous her ministers and members would become, and how glori- 
ously her converts would triumph in heaven ! If the number of her 
ministers and members should increase for fifty years to come, as they 
have doae for the fifty years that are past, they would then amount to 
82,687 travelling ministers and preachers, and 29,384,264 Church 
members. I do not pretend to say that this will be the case ; but I 
do not' hesitate to say that this is possible. There is room enough 
in these United States for a vast increase of its population, and the 
country is certainly increasing very rapidly. It is not at all impossi- 
ble, that, in fifty years to come, the population of this country may 
amount to sixty millions. And why might not the membership of the 
M. E. Church amount to half that number? But I will not at present 
indulge in any farther speculation upon this subject ; but draw this 
subject to a close, by briefly inquiring what we ooghtto do under these 
circumstances. What then ought the ministers and members of this 
Church to do, in endeavoring to make some return of gratitude to their 
Divine Benefactor, for the benefits which He has conferred upon 
them t iSurely, y^ ought not to sit down in supineness, as though the 
conquest was already gained. But every minister and member of the 
Church should |>e stimulated by a view of what God has already done 
for us, and the prospect which He is opening up before us, to increased 
exertion in endeavoring to extend this cause. We have men and 
money : and the whole world lies open before us. Look after our 
missionaries among the aborigines. Loo)l even beyond the Rocky 
Mountains, where 2ie intrepid Lees are in search of the wild men of 
the forests, and laboring and sufTering to bring them^to the knowledge 
of God our Savior. Follow the missionary of the cross to Africa, 
and see that benighted continent opening before him. Look toward 
Mexico and South America, and see what is to be done there. Th§n 
turn your eyes homeward, and behold the multitudes of our own 
citizens who are livipg without Gt>d in the world. And when you 
have taken this extensive survey, ask yourselves. What can I do toward 
extending this cause in the world 1 Believe that you can do something 
in t^ business ; and resolve by the grac^ of God to do it Qepena 
upon it, Gotd requires this at your hands ; and the united prayers, 
money, i^id labors, of the meinb^sf and ministers of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church may, in .the course of another half centu|y» 
Vol. VL— Jtt/y, 1836. 22 



2S4 DUe^wH OR WaUr B^fHtm. 

extend the triumphs of the croes of Chriet through all these lanSsy 
and add more than 30,000,000 of souls to £e society of the 
redeemed in the earth* 



A DISCOURSE ON WATER BAPTISM, 
Preached (U East Greenwich^ R. /., 6y the Rev, James Porter. 

* Repeat, and be baptiied every one of yon in the name of Jeans Christ, for the 
remission of sins ; and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost,* Acts ii, 38* 

That the Scriptures enjoin baptism, as the privilege and duty of 
l)elievers, is universally allowed. But as to the matter of this baptism, 
there is some difference of opinion ; some holding it to be that of the 
Holy Ghost, and others water. The sentiment of the Quakers is, that 
all the baptism required by the Gospel is spiritual ; and hence they de- 
nounce water baptism, and consider those who practise it as somewhat 
in bondage to the law. Most other Christian denominations admit 
water baptism, and practise accordingly ; though many of them no less 
believe in the baptism of the Spirit, than the Quakers themselves. 

Though this difference of opinion may not immediately involve our 
eternal interests, if it be maintained with candid and prayerful exami- 
nation; it nevertheless demands attention, inasmuch as it either 
encumbers the Gospel and its adherents with a groundless and un- 
meaning ceremony, or detracts from its worship a most important and 
significant rite. It ought to be the ambition of all Christians to have 
the worship of God as simple, and expressive, yet as ceremonial as 
the Scriptures require. If baptism be a human institution merely, it is 
desirable to know it, since its observance is attended with much labor 
to the ministry, and not unfrequently with great inconvenience to the 
laity. On the other hand, if it be an ordinance of the Gospel, the de- 
clarative honor of God, the spirituality and unanimity of His Church 
require its universal belief. • * 

In this discourse I shall endeavor to maintain, that water baptism is 
a Gospel ordinance, binding on all Christians. Attd here, let it be 
understood, 1. It is no part of my object to prove or disprove the bap- 
tism of the Spirit. That God baptizied His apostles, and some others, 
in the apostolic age ; or that He communicates His Spirit in a degree 
to every man at the present, and especially to believers, I readily ad- 
mit. But that this supersedes water baptism, and proves that it can 
have no place in the Gospel system, I deny. The progeny of Abra- 
ham were all included in God^s covenant with him ; but this did not 
supersede the necessi^ of an outward sign of their relation to God, 
which was well understood. Neither does the baptism of the Spirit 
contravene, in the least, that of water, which is its sign. Types cease 
when their antitypes appear ; but signs and substances may exist toge- 
dier. fNor, 2, is it my object to prove that water baptism cleanses the 
heart from sin. Though this is asserted by papists, it forms no part of 
the faith of Protestants ; neither has it any foundation in reason or 
Scripture. Aside from the faith of the subject, however holy the 
administrator, it can no more renew the heart, than the washing of 
hands, or any other equally sisigniiicant act Nor yet, 3, shall I 



Diicouru on Water Bapti$m. 155 



attempt very fully to show what good baptism does. This is not, and 
ought not to be a question, even with those who believe baptism to be 
a Divine institution, iduch less with those who deny it* But if it were 
necessaiy to know all its advantages in order to receive it, there will 
be time enough for this after the first question is settled ; viz. Is bap- 
tism a Grospel ordinance ? 

In maintaining the affirmative of this question, I shall, 

I. Examine same of the more prominent objectionM of Friendi io 
water baptiem. 

II. Adduce such arguments in proof of t7, as I may he able. 

1. The first objection I shall notice is founded on £ph. iv, 5 : 
* One . Lord, one futh, one baptism.' To consider all that has been 
written on this tekt to disprove water baptism, would be equally tedious 
and disgusting. The most of these writings assume, first, that the 
apostle said £ere is but one baptism ; .and Sien, with much circumlo- 
cution, proceed to prove that water baptism is not that one baptism. 
Their chief difficulty arises, evidently, from mistaking the whole scope 
of the apostle's argument For they go on the supposition,, that he 
was treating upon baptism numericalty; whereas he undoubtedly 
referred to the homogeneousness of its nature and obligations, and 
nothing else. To understand the primitive meaning of this text, it is 
indispensable to consult the context. The evident design of the apostle 
was to prevent altercation among the members of the Ephesian Chuirch. 
Some of them were probably converted Jews, and some Gentiles. 
Having been diffisrendy educated, and in no one thing, perhaps, more 
than to despise each other, they were in great danger of yielding to 
their national prejudices, losing the unity of the spirit, and becoming 
contentious. To forestall this, the apostle addresses them as follows : 
« I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy 
of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meek- 
ness, with long suffering, forbearing one another in love ; endeavoring 
to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace.' He then adds, 
as reasons why they should do this, * There is one body,' by which 
he evidently means the Church. * One Spirit' — ^the Holy Ghost, who 
animates this body. * One hope' — of everlasting glory. * One Lord' — 
Jesus Christ, who governs the Church. ' One faith'— one system of 
doctrines. * One baptism' — with water, in the name of the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost. That he refers here to water baptism is 
obvious, from bis having just before named the Spirit, which he could 
hot have done in this place, without unpardonable tautology. His 
argument is, since the Church of Christ is one, though coinposed of 

"bodi Jews and Gentiles, having one Spirit, one hope, one Governor, 
one system of faith, one baptism, the nature and obligations of which 
are the same to all nations ; and since ye all belong to this Church, 
and have received the same baptism, and taken upon you all its respon- 
sibilities ; ye ought, therefore, to be meek, loBg suffering ; forbearing 
one another in iove ; endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in 
the bonds of peace ; and sufifer nb discprd ainong you. If this dien 
be th# true meaning of the passage— and I submit it to the candid to 
decide— it is so far from disproving water baptism, it is important evi- 
dence in its fiivor. 

2. The dedaration of the Apostie Peter, in his first epistle, iii, 21 : 



35(> Discouru an Water BofHim. 

* The like figure, whesreunto baptism doth also now save us, (not the 
putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good con- 
science toward God,) by iSbe resurrection of Jesus Christ,' is quoted 
by Friends as demonstrative of their views. * So plain a definition of 
baptism,' says Barclay, *is not to be found in all the Bible.' But 
allowing him and his coadjutors all they claim from this passage, we 
shall only admit, that it exclusively regards spiritual baptism, and hence 
neither proves nor disproves that of water* Therefore, if their views 
of it are correct, it does not necessarily follow that ours, in the main, 
are wrong. 

But, if spiritual baptism be here understood, how can it be said, it is 
the answer, or, as the Syriac has it, th^ confession or expression of a 
good conscience ] The office of the Spirit is not to answer a good 
conscience, but to create one, by renovating the heart, and conforming 
it to the Divine law. Again : this exposition supposes resemblance 
between the ark, or waters of the flood, and the baptism of the Spirit, 
which is not easy to perceive. How is this a like fiigure of either 1 
On their hypothesis, these difficulties are insuperable ; but, when we j 
understand the passage to speltk of water baptism, they vanish. This 
may be considered as the antitype of the waters of the deluge with 
much propriety ; and though it does not save us by putting away the 
filth of the flesh, yet it is the answer, or confession to the world, of a 
good conscience. I have already intimated, that circumcision was an 
expression of covenant relation to God. Baptism, under the Grospel, 
supplying its place, confesses, with equal distinctness* a good con- 
science in its subject, and his relation to God. * No,' says Barclay ; 

* because many are baptized with water, who are not saved.' And are 
not many, too, baptized with the Spirit, who are not saved 1 Suppose 
some are baptized who have not a good conscience, buf are hypoctites, 
can this afiect the design of the ordinance 1 Do the hypocrisies of 
men invalidate the institutions' of God ? Peter is not speaking of bap- 
tism as abused ; but in its design and instrumental results, when pro- 
perly observed. Says Dr. Clarke, * Noah and his family were saved 
by water, i. e. it was the instrument of their being saved, through the 
good providence of God. So the water of baptism, t^ifying the rege- 
nerating influence of the Holy Spirit, is the means of. salvation to all 
those who receive the Holy Spirit in its awakening, cleansing efficacy.' 

3. Another objection is founded on 1 Cor« i, 17 : ^ Christ sent roe 
not to baptize^ but to preach the Goflipel.' Taking this passage in its 
utmost latitude of meaning, the conduct of the aposde is unaccountable. 
If baptizing was not embraced in hi^ commission, and was no part of 
his business, by what anthority did he baptize Crispus and Gains, and 
the household of StepluinaSf as confessed in the preceding verses t 
To say he did it wi^out authority^ could noi be mudi to his credit, 
should we even allow him to be a Friend; f(^ in this case he must 
have hypocritically claimed ftuthority, or they, wouki not have sub- 
mitted to be baptized. They knew that the (Mrerogative of baptizing 
was confided to the apostles ; and ihat io baptize, without auUiority, 
would subvert the established order of the Church. These considera- 
tions are sufficient to demonstrate^ that the i^postle used the words, 

* not to baptize,' in a restricted sense. Bishop Pearce translates this, 
with the appwHmtion of ieanjiad commantatois ; 'Christ seal me not so 



DUcowrat on Wuier Bspimu 257 

much to baptize as to preach the Go«pel ;* and supports his version, 
as follows : — * The writers of the Old and New Testaments do ahnost 
every where, agreeably to the Hebrew idiom, express a preference 
given to one thing beyond another, by an affirmation of that which is 
preferred, and a negation of that which is contrary to it.' Somewhat 
similar to this in strength of expression is the language of the evange- 
list, when he says, * Jerusalem and all Judea' came to John's baptism ; 
and also, * Except ye hate father and mother,' &c. None, I presume* 
will pretend that every inhabitant of Jerusalem and Judea went to 
John's baptism, or that Christ really requires us to hate our parents ! 
These, with the one under consideration, are broad expressions, the 
meaning of which is to be learned by other scriptures. At the time 
^s epistle was penned, the Church at Corinth wae much disturbed with 
bitter contentions. One said, * I am of Paul,' and another, * I am of 
ApoUos,' &c. In view of these things, the apostle says to them, * I 
thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus,' &c, * lest any 
should say thftt I had baptized in mine own name.' Thus it appears, 
hia gratitude that he had baptized no more, arose from the consideration 
of their difficulties, and the opportunity it would have given them to 
accuse him of impure motives, had the number been greater. He 
does not eyen intimate but that baptism is a Gospel rite, and they had 
done well in being baptized ; 1l>ut, on the contrary, he virtually coo* 
fesses both in bis apology for what he did. 

St Paul was a man of consistency of character ; he was not wont 
to do business without authority. Even when he went to Damascus 
to pour out the vengeance of his intolerant spirit upon the heads of 
the innocent disciples, he carried ^ letters of authority.' And is it rea* 
sonable to conclude, that, after he was called to^the apostleship, he 
went round baptizing ; and then, by letter or otherwise, confessing that 
he was not authorized to baptize ! The fact, that he baptized some, 
gives the translation of Bishop Pearce a commanding influence. 

4. * It is ceremonial.' If by this be meant, a rite of the ceremonial 
law, I denjv- It is true that law embraced divers washings of men 
and things ; but not that washing which is denominated ChrUtian hap^ 
iism* The distinguishing characteristic of this is the name in which 
it is performed — the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost Therefore before 
this can justly be* ranked with the washings of the ceremonial law, it 
must b^ shown that one of those washings, at least, was performed in 
this name, which cannot be done. But, if the objector only means, it 
is an outward form, the objection stands with equal force agamst every 
other external of religious worship. For if this be ceremonial, so is 
preaching, praying, singing, kneeling, sitting in silence, and shaking 
hand9 ! But are all these to be abandoned merely for this reason ! 
Religion without ceremony, is like a soul without a body ; and to man 
must be perfectly visionary and untangible. Bqt God has wisely con^ 
nected them;> and what He has joined together, let not man put 
asunder. 

6^ * Some have been saved without being baptized.' The inference 
pretended to be deduced from this is, that water baptism is not essen* 
tial to salvation, and consequently is not required by the Gospel. But 
is this a fair inference from the premises ? How fer God may regard 
the igaorauce, prejudices, and superstitions of men, in the day of 

22* 



268 Di$c^mr$e mi FToler Bapfum. 

judgment, is somewbat difficult to decide. Though baptism is a 
Gospel ordinance, binding on all Christians, it is not incredible, that 
such may be the circumstances under which some neglect it, that their 
neglect will not prove an insuperable barrier to their salvation. Hence, 
if the premises in the objection be true, the inference deduced from it 
is not legitimate. 

Some have undoubtedly been saved without the Gospel, and without 
practising many of the duties it enjoins. But does it follow that the 
Gospel is not from God, and that its observance is not necessary to 
salvation with those who have it? The objection insinuates, that it 
does. Thus, it is obvious, should the objection be fbllowed out in all 
its ramifications, it would lead to most fatal results. 

6. * Christ did not baptize.' That He did not, on one occasion, 
referred to, John iv, 2, is admitted ; but that He never baptized, is not 
so clear. Whether He did or not, however, it is evident His disciples 
baptised with His direction and approvance ; otherwise He would have 
rebuked &em, and pointed out the repugnancy of water%aptism to the 
spirituality of the Gospel dispensation, «s He was accustomed to do, 
when He discovered any aberration in their principles or conduct from 
the laws of His kingdom. That He ever expressed any dissatisfac- 
tion with them on account of their baptizing, does not appear from the 
Bible ; but, on the contrary, when He was about going to His Father, 
He commanded His apostles to *go into all the world, and preach the 
Gospel to every creature, baptizing them' tuith water, as I shall show 
in the sequel of this discourse. Therefore, had He baptized with His 
own hand. He would not more fully have given His sanction to the 
ordinance than He did ; * though He baptized not, but His disciples.' 

7. The last objeotion I shall notice is found in the inquiry, * If bap- 
tism be a Divine ordinance, why is not jpedtltiottim, or feet-washing, 
enjoined by Christ ; and circumcision, practised by Paul in the case of 
Timothy V In regard to the first, i - answer. It was enjoined on the 
disciples as an act of civility and humility merely, and undesigned to 
be perpetual or universal. In proof of this, I observe,fmat washing 
feet is not mentioned, as a religious rite, directly or indirectly, by 
either Christ or His apostles ; whereas the' injunction be baptized^ and 
ttke declaration he wcta, or they were baptisied, and similar references 
to this subject, are recorded in ahxiost ^very part of the New Testa- 
ment. This, with every unprejudiced man, capsKble of weighing an 
argument, is a satisfactory reason for not practising psdt/uvtttm. Were 
other reasons necessuy, they could be easily adduced ; but surely 
they are not . • 

That St. Pa;ul circumcised Timothy, the Scriptures plainly avow^ 
This he did for reasons which ho thought sufficient to justify it, and 
which (unhappily for Friends) are not concealed. Acts xvi, 3, it is 
said, * Him,' referring to Timothy, • would Paul have to go forth with 
him ; and took and circumcised him, because of the Jews which were 
in those quarters ; for they kneio all that his father was a Greeks* 
* Because of the Jews.' Here we have the reason in M\ why the 
apostle did this ; in which it is virtually conceded that circumcision 
is not a Gospel rite. Says Dr. Ckrke, * He (Timothy) was circum- 
cised for this simple reason, that the Jews would neither have heard 
him preach, npr would they have had any connection with him, bad he 



mtcount cm W^jkt BmptiMl^ M9 

been oftherwise. Beside, St Pwil Umaalf could iMtve bad no nccesa 
to fbe Jews, in any |iiace« had they known thai he aasoeiated with a 
person who was uocifcumciBed : thej Would have conaidered boUi to 
be unclean. The dbreumciaion of Timothy was a m«rely prudential 
thing. Timothy was hud under no necessity to obsenre the Mosaic 
ritual ; nor would it prejudice his spiritual state* because he did not 
do it in order to seek justification by the law, for this he had before, 
through faith in Christ In Gal. ii, 3-5, we read that Paul refused to 
circumcise Titus, vfbo was a Greek, and his parents Gentiles, not* 
withstanding the entreaties of some zealous Judaising Christians ; as 
their object was to bring him under the yoke of the law. Here the 
case was widely different, and the necessity of the measure indisputa* 
ble.' Had the apostle refused to baptize any for the reasons he 
asMgns m Galatians fiar not practising circumcision, the case would 
be different But there is not <me word in all his epistles against biq>- 
tism, and yeiy many in its support. Beside, circumcision is not once 
enjoined in the New Testament ; it was not practised by the apostles 
except in this case, nor has it been by their successors dbwn to the 
present time ; whereas baptism is repeatedly enjoined, and was prac* 
tised by the apostles, as I shall hereafler show. 

There are some few other objections which might be noticed ; but 
they are frivolous, compared with the foregoing. If I have answered 
these, the rest must yield of course. 

I now proceed, 

II. To adduce such targumeuit in proof of vtater baptimn a8 are to 
be found in the Gospels 

On this part of the subject, I must necessarily be brief. This, how- 
ever, is no apology for the discourse. The greatest brevity which 
could be desired is sufficient, I think, to secure the objects in view. 

1. My first argument is draivn from the commission our Lord gave 
to His apostles : * 60 ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing 
them in the name of the Father, and of the Son,. and of the Hdy 
Ghost.' No one who is not biased by. the love of theory could sup* 
pose that baptism here is any other, than that of water. And yet. 
Friends are very confident, tiiat it is the baptism of the Spirit That 
it is water baptiism, and not tlie baptism of the Spirit, is to me very 
obvious, from the following considerations : — 

(1.) At the time when this commission was announced, the Holy 
Ghost had not been given ; see Luke xxiv, 49. Hence the apostles 
were comparatively ignorant of spiritual baptism, if indeed they bad 
any idea of it. - With water baptism they were perfectly tamiliar. If 
therefore Christ had meant spiritual baptism, would He not have made 
an explanation expressive of his meaning 1 Reason says. He would^ 
if He designed to be understood. . As no such explanation was given, 
it is therefore clear, that He referred to the baptism with which they 
were acquainted, viz. water baptism. 

(2.) It is the prerogative of Christ alone to baptize with the Holy 
Spirit. J6hn said, ^ I indeed baptize you with waiter unto repentance ; 
but He that comelh afler me is m^htier than I ; He ahalljt>aptize you 
with the Holy Ghost, and with fire.' But this commission makes it 
the duty of the apostles to baptize. The apostles baptized with water; 
Christ alone baptized with thQ Holy Ghost 



260 Dtteaune an WaUr AoplMin. 

If it be said, Thej were to baptize inBtrufnentally, I aDSwer« Then 
they were to preach and teach all nations instramentally ! But this is 
an anomaly in divinity which no reasonable man will readily allow. 
They were sent to preach the Gospel, not instfumentally, but HteraUy 
and directly ; and, with equal certainty, to baptize literally and directly. 
The baptism in the text is literal, and not spiritual. 

(3.) They were to baptize * in the name of the Father, and of the 
Son, and of the Holy Ghost' What, baptize with the Holy Ghost, in 
the name of the Holy Ghost ! Strange orthodoxy I Wonderful dis- 
crimination I Here we see to what absurdities men are led in defence 
of their creed ! Did Peter and John lay their hands on the disciples, 
at Samaria, in the name of the Holy Ghost, when the Holy Ghost 
came upon them? Did Paul use these words when he laid hu hands 
on the twelve disciples at Ephesus 1 If not, did they not violate their 
Master's command ? The truth is, this is a ceremony attending the 
communication of the Holy Ghost which the apostles never heard of, 
and of course never practised. And to suppose it embraced in the 
commission of Christ to His apostles, is to outrage every principle of 
interpretation ; ancl establish a precedent which may be wielded in 
support of the wildest reveries of the most frantic imagination. Be- 
side this, the universal practice of the apostles looks 'it out of counte- 
nance into contempt ;.and proves, so far as principle may be proved by 
the practice of inspired men, that the apostles understood their com- 
mission to embrace water baptism. Thus this commission stands an 
eternal monument of the obligation of baptism ; and is not to be 
obscured by the sophistry of men. 

2. Those scriptures which speak of water baptism in contradistinc- 
tion from spiritual, incontestably prove it to be aa ordinance of the 
Gospel. The text contains a command to ' repent and be baptized,' 
with a promise, * and ye shall receive the. gift of the Holy Ghost.' 
Here water baptism, as well as repentance, is made :a prerequisite to 
that of the Spirit. • JVtUer 6aphm, I say ; for I know not what other 
can be meant, without perverting the meaning and. sense of language. 
To suppose it is spiritual, is to make the apostle say. Repent, and 
receive the Holy Ghost« and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy 
Ghost ! Friends must now admit water baptism, or adopt this unmean- 
ing tautology. 

In Acts viti, 13, we learn that Simon Magus believed, and was bap- 
tized. In the same chapter, it is said, * When he saw that, through 
laying on o^the apostles' hands, the Holy Ghost was given, he of&red 
them money, saying. Give me also this power ;' and that Peter said 
unto him, * Thy money perish with thee ! thou hast neither part nor 
lot in this matter, for thy heart is not right in the sight of Gpd.' Here, 
then, is one who had been baptized, and yet had no part nor lot in the 
Holy Ghost. Will Friends say, he was baptized with the Holy 
Ghost ? 

3. The apostles practised water baptism. This, peiiiaps, is suffi- 
ciently dear from what has already been said ; but that no 'doubt maj 
remain, I present the following remarks :— -Philip preached and 6ap- 
Hzed in Samaria ; Acts viii, 12. When the apo^es beard that Sama* 
ria had received the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and Jf^m* 
who laid their hands on certain of them* ^ and they received the Holy 



IHtcowme om W^Umr B^npUtm. 261 

Ghost' Hence it q>pearB, tliat Plulip did not ImptuEe them with the 
Holy Ghost ; for He had fallen on none of them when .Peter and John 
arrived. The case of Cornelius and his household is no less conclu- 
sive. Peter saidi * Can any man fbrhid water that these should not be 
baptized, which have receiv^ed the Holy Ghost as well as we V Thus, 
it appean they had akeady received die Holy Ghost* and nevertheless 
Peter demaikds w^er to baptize them. ! what a shadowy, ceremo* 
nial minister he must h&ve been, to deal so much in signs and cere- 
monies in the midst of Divine substances! The twelve disciples 
whom Paul fcMind at Ephesus were baptiaed». probably, by his own 
hand, or, at least, by his direction. And the subsequent mentioi^ of 
his laying his hands on them, and the descent of the Holy Ghost, 
is demonstration that their first baptism was not that of (he Holy 
Ghost. 

To these and many more passages of a similar character, I might 
add the testimony of the fathers. I shall, however, only allude to them. 
Irensus and Justin. Martyr, born near the close of the first century ; 
Clemens Aiexandrious and TertulUan, bom a little after; and Origen, 
bom A. D. 184, all testify, directly or indirectly, that water baptism 
was practised in their time ; and that they received it from the apostles. 
Were this not trae, it would have been contradicted at the time they 
wrote,, and some traces of the contradiction must have reached us ; but 
this is not the case. Therefore their testimony must go to corroborate 
the proposition under consideration. 

Having, as I trust, demonstrated water baptism to be a Gospel 
ordinance, little, very little, is necessary to prove that it is binding 
on air Christians ; for, I consider, they stand or fall together. If water 
baptism were never a Divine ordinance, it is not binding on any ; but 
if it were, it is now binding, unless it can be shown when and by 
whom it was abrogated. The Gospel is not like Church creeds, and 
almost every thing else subject to human volition, changeable, and ever 
changing. What it was in the begiiming, it is now, and ever will be. 
The perpetuity of its character and claims stands based on the un* 
changing word of Jehovah. And do we think of binding th^ Divine 
will to the vain conceits of men, and thus detracting from the oracles 
of God? The Gospel is the sure word of testimony. Wb^e that 
stands, the obligation of baptism must remain. In conclusion* It 
is mrged upon all who love our Lord Jesus Christ to be baptized. 1* 
Because the Scriptures require it The same authority, which ei^ioins 
repentance and faith, enjoins baptism. Can we believe the authority 
of the form^, and reject that, of the latter ? Is not this as peremptory, 
as the command to m^enU ond believe ? Why then neglect ill Did 
not God mean as he said 1 The stale objection, * It was done away in. 
Christ,' is too palpably false to be repeated. Just as much were 
repentance and prayer done aw^y in Christ. He did not die to abolish 
the institutions of the Gospel, but to render them valid and good. 
Do you say, * I don't feel it my duty to be baptized V Are your feel- 
ings then the rule of faith and practice 1 Are these the law by which 
you are to be judged t If not, beware how you study it Your not 
feeling it your duty is no excuse for neglect in this case. The Gospel 
is plain. * Repent and be baptized every one of you.' And by this 
bw shall we be acquitted or condemned in the day of judgment* 



262 JDbconrie on Waier jBap^iitn. 

Do 70U say agftiii« < It can do no good V Too are too late. God 
is beforehand with you ; and by the injunction, ^ Be baptized,' he im- 
plicitly declares its advantages. *It can do no good!' O, what a 
slander on the Almighty. Has God required what is useless i 0, say 
it not, lest &ou be convicted of folly and pride. 

2. It is a mean of grace, in the observance of which many have 
been blessed. In receiving baptism, we publicly renounce the world, 
the flesh, and the devil ; and pledge ourselves to keep Crod's b6ly 
commandments all the days of our Uvea. To say nothing, therefore, 
of the grace received on the occasion, the results of so hoiy a profes- 
sion and solemn pledge, on our subsequent conduct, cannot be unim- 
portant Such is the significancy and impressiveness of this rite, that 
its obligations are not easily obliterated from the mind. They spring 
up, as it were, spontaneously, in the mind, to suppress our rising 
depravity, and stimulate to ^e performance of every duty. Well 
^erefore is it said, * Baptism doth save us/ So salirtary is its influ- 
ence, it seems very desirable, if not indispensable. 

The utility of baptism, however, is not fully developed in its natural 
influence on the conduct of man. As the Spirit descended like a dove 
upon Christ when He came up from the water, so it invariably accom- 
panies the proper administration and reception of baptism. The 
eunuch, when he was baptized, went on his way rejoicing. The three • 
thousand, baptized on the day of pentecost, for the remission of sins^ 
* continued steadfastly in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in 
breaking of bread, and in prayers.' The rejoicings of the baptized, 
also, form an important item in this evidence. On this I might 
enlarge ; but I leave you to make your own reflections. 

Thus it is obvious that baptism is a glorious mean of grace, and 
not to be slighted with impunity. If we slight it, we do it at our 
peril. 

3. I urge baptism, lastly, by the consideration that it can do no 
harm. This, I allow, is not a sufficient reiason for action • in every 
case ; but in this it is : for the least Friends themselves can admit is, 
diat baptism is very possibly a Divine ordinance. But if it be, it is of 
importance, and cannot be neglected without spiritual loss. In being 
baptized then, we risk nothing; whereas, in neglecting it, we risk 
every thing. Since, therefore, the devout observance of it can do us 
no injury, we are sacredly bound to be baptized. If we must err, it 
is better to err on the safe side. Rather perform five ceremonies 
not required, than neglect one the Gospel enjoins. The penalty of 
disobedience is severe ; but supererogation is not thneatened. Then 
abandon your prejudices, * and be baptized every one of jfou, and ye 
thaU receive the gift of the Holy Ghosi*^ 

The God of all grace, who has called us unto His eternal glory, by 
Christ Jesus, make you perfect, establish, strengthen, settle you. To 
Him be glory and domimon for ever and ever^ Amen, 



OUirMeier of Olbvir* AcHmu tmd Si^^mngi. 263 



A SHORT BSSAY 

OH THE CHARACTER OF THB ACTIONS AND SUFFERINGS OF 

JESUS CHRIST. 

Introduction, 

SoBitTHtNO more tiban forty jtBxn i«o, being in compasy widi the 
Rev. Christopher Spry and the Rey. Evan Rogers, two M ethodiat 
preachers of high standing at that timSf one of them asked the eUier, 
* Whether Jesus Christ suffered as man only, or as Qod and manT 
After some conversation upon ^e subject^ it was dropped, without any 
decision upon the question. I took no part in the conyersatiiMi, btrt 
listened, as became my youth, to the obsenrations of older men* In- 
deed, I bad no opinion to offer^ as that was the first time I had heard 
the subject agitated* Soon after this, being in company with a yeong 
man who had been educated for the ministry, but who had unfortu- 
nately become a disciple of Thomas Paine, he put the same question 
to oie — ^that is, * Whether Jesus Christ suffered as man only, or as 
God and man?' and seeing that I hesitated, he remarked* that * He 
could not suffer in His Divine nature ; and if He suffered only in His 
human nature, the sufferings of Peter or Paul would have gone as ftfr 
toward making an atonement for sin as His.' The subject now as- 
sumed an importance in my view, as it disclosed the ground on which 
he, and probably many others, had rejected Divine revelation. On 
turning my attention to the Scriptures for a solution of the difficulty, I 
became satisfied, that, as Jesus Christ united both the Divine and 
human natures in His person, He must have suffered in both ; and, 
that this was the testimony of the Scriptures on the point. But it is 
one &ing to say Christ suffered and died as our Redeemer, and ano- 
ther to say the Godhead suffered and died. The latter sentiment 
would be improper, as it excludes the other part of his complex per- 
son, and conveys the idea that God died. But that may be predicated 
of a complex person which cannot be of a simple person. And it 
should be borne in mind, that when the Divine and human natures 
became united, that union formed a distinct person, with new attri- 
butes- and capabilities, even our Savior ; of whom we may affirm, 
that he suffered and died : that is, that the two natures of our Savior 
suffered together, till a separation took place between that which was 
spiritual ami that which was corporeal in His person, which is what 
we understand by His death. But no separation ever took place be- 
tween the Divine nature and the human soul of Christ* 

This Essay assumes that the union of the Divine and human 
nature, in the person of Christ, was such, that neither could be ex- 
cluded in any action, suffering, or state of His; and that to exclude 
one is to dissolve the union. And on this ground it is that the Scrip- 
tures frequently refer suffering to the complex person <^ our Savior, 
as when they say, ' Christ suffered for uSf Christ diedy &Cr without 
once intimating that it is to be limited to a part, or to the human 
nature. Nay more: they refer suffering and death to the Divine 
nature direetly^, as the most important part of, and a» implying His 
complex person. The S^iptures infdiffiBreptly refer stpfferinga^d 



264 ChafaHtrof Ohrtift JitHom ami S§gmrmg$k 

death to the human or Divine nature ; and that for this ohvious 
reason, that whatever part of a complex person, known and acknow- 
ledged to be such, be mentioned, the whol^ person is understood. 

It has appeared quite strange to me, that at a time when so much is 
said from the' pulpit and the press upon the doctrines of the trinity, 
the Divinity and incarnation of Christ* the doctrines of the atone- 
ment, &c, that scarcely any thing should have been said or written 
upon the character of those labors and sufierings by which the redemp- 
tion of the world has been accomplished. And this is the more 
strange, as the* Unitarians have accused the friends of the alenement 
as vacillating upon this point They say, * The orthodox think the 
doctrine of the atonement as they hold it, gives them greatly the 
advantage, as it rests on a sacrifice of infinite vahie ; but when we 
object, that this involves the worse than absurd idea, that God him- 
self died, they change their ground, and tell us that * Jesus Christ 
suffered only in his human nature.' And this every trinitarian must 
know to be the fact. Hence something more consistent and satisfac- 
tory is certainly desirable. The following Essay it is hoped will 
supply the desideratum. The subject, in itself, and in its influence on 
pmctical and experimental piety^ is, important ; and the writer only 
regrets that it had not fallen to the lot of some one of more ability and 
teisure to set it in a proper light. Such as the attempt is, he com- 
mends it to Grod and his brethren, and hopes for a successful issue. 



It is frequently said of our blessed Savior, that * He did this as maO) 
and that as God ;' * that he suffered in his human nature alone, and 
that he could not suffer in his Divine nature.' But this is a mode of 
speaking which it is believed the Scriptures will not warrant, and which 
is calculated to mislead the inquirer in some important respects, and 
betrays those who use it into inconsistency and self contradiction. 
Whatever is said or done by our Savior respects His whole person, and 
not merely a part of it. 

All orthodox Christians represent sin as an evil of such magnitude 
that it cannot be expiated but by an infinite sacrifice ; but when the 
difficulty of conceiving how the Divine nature could sufier is presented 
to view, they seem to retract, and give us this sentiment, that ' Jesos 
Christ suffered only in His human nature.' But if the doctrine of vica- 
rious satisfaction rests alone on the suffering of the mere human nature 
of Christ, it follows, that the merit of His suffering was finite, and could 
never atone for sin. 

Nor win it obviate the difficulty to say that * the human nature iras 
ennobled and dignified by its union with the Divine, and therefore 
His sufferings possessed an infinite vahie.' It is one thing to assert thist 
and another to prove it. However ennobled and dignified tiie human 
nature was by its union with the Divine, it was. human nature stillt 
and conM merit nothing. 

It will avail as little to say that * the human nsiture was ofiered upon 
the altar of, or was supported by the Divine nature, and tiierefore pos- 
sessed an infinite valne.* To this it may be replied,-^ 

First, That the Divine nature, in distinctioa from the human, is 
nowhere in Scripture represented as an altar for this purpose ; and 



J 



Seeoiufijf, That if the office of the Divine iiature« in mfdcing the atone- 
mentf was to support the human nature tn its sufferings, it could have 
done this as well without becoming incaraatOt as to support the saints 
in their sufferings without becoming incarnate for each individual* But 

Tkirdlyt It nowhere appears that the human nature of Christ had 
this support, but the contrary. He was dismayed and overwhelmed 
by the magnitude of His sufferings ; and Hii^ soul was in agony : 
He sunk, and died. We are toM that the * angels ministered to 
Him' in His extremity ; but if He' had been supported by the infinitOf 
unsuffering Divinity, there would have been no room for the ministry 
of angels in the case. 

It would hot, however, be proper to s&y, without qualification, that 
the Deity suffered, or that the Divinity died. This would be as im- 
proper as to limit the sufferings of Christ to his humanity. We can- 
not say that the Deity, as Deity, can suffer ; but we can say that that 
which is impossible to the Deity, as Deity, is possible to Him as incar- 
nated. It was impossible that the Deity, as Deity, should be bom of 
a woman ; but it was not impossible for him: as incarnated. The fact 
that He was so b^m proves that it was not impossible. 

The proposition laid down and defended in the following pages is 
this : I%at all the actions and sufferings of Jesus Christ were the 
actions and sufferings of tht God-man^ or, in other words, the complex 
person of our blessed Savior. 

To prepare the way for what may be said in support of this propo- 
sition;4t may be well to premise a few things. 

Those who limit the sufferings of Jesus Christ to his human nature, 
speak on the subject, as though each part of a complex person has a 
property in eyery other part, ^nd in the actions and sufferings of the 
whole person, though they do not act or suffer together. Hence they 
say the sufferings of the human nature of Christ were the sufferings of 
the Divine nature, though the latter did not suffer. But a little atten- 
tion to the subject will show this to be an error. 

£very person and thing ha» something which makes it what it is, 
and which distinguishes it from every thing else. This is called iden^ 
tity. The two natures of Jesus Christ were united in His incarna- 
tion, and formed one person^ having identity^ which is essential to Him 
as the one Mediator between God and men. Ift therefore, we 
destroy the identity of HLs person as Mediator, or disunite the two 
natures^ it follows of course, that there is no Mediator, though the two 
natures exist separately. 

But how c^ the personal identity of the Mediator be destroyed? 
We answer. In one way only,, by separating the two natures, the 
human and the Divine ; and this it is conceived is done when we 
limit anv action or sufiering to one nature, and exclude the other. 
While ue identity of our Savior's person reinaaipsr every action and 
suffering must be the action and suffering of His whole person, unless 
we choose to say that the same person' may both act andno* act — su^r 
and noi suffbr at the same tkne^ which would be a contradiction in 
terms, and cannot be true. 

Thus we see that the property whidi anjr pan of a complex person 
has in every other part, and in the actions and sufferings of the whole* 
depends entirely on the identity of person. But, if we separate the 

Vol. VL—/f»iy, 1835. 23 



t66 OkaracUr ofChritf» Aeihm and Sufftring9. 

parts ofvwhich the person is composed, there remains no common 
interest in the attributes of either. If we limit the sufferings of our 
Savior to His human nature, and exclude the Divine nature from 
sharing in them, we separate the two natures ; and the sufferings 
of the former are no more the sufferings of the latter^ than were the 
sufferings of Peter or Pan]. It is conceived that only on the ground 
maintained in this £ssay, this personal identity of our Savior, can 
He claim any personal property in the sufferings of the human nature. 
' On this ground alone, die sufferings and blood of the human nature 
are the sufferings and blood of the Divine nature ; because on this 
ground the whole complex person suffered. 

The reader will frequently meet in the following pages with this and 
similar language : *• The Scriptures refer suffering and death to ^e 
Divine nature of Christ ** < But let him not misunderstand th^ writer 
in these instances. Though the Scriptures do this, (this is the fact,) 
His complex person is always understood, of which the Divine nature 
is the most important part. 

The complex person of the Savior is analogous to that of man. 
When a man dies, the soul and body suffer together till the separation ^ 
takes place, when the soul performs its wonted functions, without the 
medium of material organs, ^hose who are accustomed to view 
death, or rather the effect of death, in a lifeless, clay-cold body, are 
startled at the thought of our Savior's dying, as though it implied 
^at the Deity ceased to exist, or his life became extinct' Unworthy 
thoUght ! Does even the soul of a man cease to exist, or become 
'extinct when he dies ? Does it not often exert its powers in a higher 
degree, while passing through those sufferings \^ich are commissioned 
to dissolve its mysterious connection with the body, than at any former 
period ? And, afler death, does it not exist in a more perfect state, 
and act in a more perfect way than it did before 1 All this, and more, 
'is true in the superlative degree, with the Divine nature» in the^ suffer- 
ings and death of Christ The sufferings and death of Jesus Christ 
did not prevent His perceptions, nor take from Him the power to act in 
all things as became the God-man, Mediator. All the parts of His 
complex person suffered together till death, when pain ceased, and the 
soul and Divine nature, closely and indissoluhly united, passed toge- 
ther into paradise, where they remained tiH their reunion with the body. 
So that neither in the sufferings before death, nor in death itself, nor in 
the state afler death, do we see any thing that need impair the facul- 
ties, or in any way prevent the exercise of the powers of his intelligent 
and efficient nature. 

We have seen above that the actions and sufferings of a complex 
person must be the actions and sufferings of all the parts of which 

* The reader^is not to nndenrtand from this ezprewion Ui«t the Divine natwe 
of J«nu Christ ceased either to he^. to /tve, or to u€ft^ as neitiier of these can ever 
be truly declared of His human soul, or of His Divinity ; hot the meanin|r is, 
that for a short season only — ftom. the time that Jesus Christ expired on the crosa 
until His resurrection-— His soul and Divinity were separated from the body ; 
so that durinip that time He ceased to appear in the complex character of 
Qod.4Qan, and ceased to perform any of those visible works which pertained to 
. Hini as the Redeemer of the world. No one, therefore, is authorized to attri- 
hnte to the author the belief, that the Deity of Jesus Christ actually expired upon 
the cross, because nothing is more foreign frona his thoughts. 






Ckar^tehr of Chrup$ detkm and St^€ring9* 267 

diat person is compossd ; for, otherwise, the parts being separated* 
the identity of person is destroyed, and we have not one personf 
but two. 

Man is a complex person, made up of spirit and matter, or soul and 
body ; and each action and suffering is the action and suffering of the 
whole person. It is true that the aetions and sufferings of a complex 
person may in various respects differ^ This may have its origin in^ 
and may immediately affect the body; that, the soul. But still the 
action or suffering belongs to the whole person. , The action of eatii^,^ 
for example, is the immediate action of the body ; and yet we do not 
say the' body eats, but the man or person eats; and no other idea 
enters into our minds. It is true we sometimes speak of an action or 
suffering, as the action or suffering of the body or of the mind, to de- 
signate the nature, or some circumstance of it ; but never to exclude 
the other component parts of the'person. We also say of a man that 
^ he endures great pain of body, or is in agony of mind.' And this is 
the- most common as well as the most proper way of speaking ; because 
when one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it, on account of the 
anion subsisting between them. And thus we speak of the death of 
a person. We do not say that the body died, or that the soul died, 
but the man died ; by which we mean that the soul and body suffered 
together up to a certain point, when the union was dissolved, the body 
becoming a lifeless , mass, and the soul existing in a separate state« 
Thenceforth we speak neither of the body nor of the soul, as the man, 
but of each separately and distinctly, as when we say, at de^th, the 
body * returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who 
gave it.' The truth is, that while the soul and body remain united^ 
neither can act or suffer alone. If the body acts or suffers, the soul 
acts or suffers with it ; if the soul acts or suffers, the body acts or 
suffers with it ; and thus the action or suffering is the action or suffer- 
ing of the whole person* 

And thus it is with our adored Mediator. He is a complete person, 
made up of body, and soul, and essential Divinity. These three* 
mystically united, constitute the one person of the Mediator; and 
henceforth all His actions and sufferings are the actions and sufferings 
of the whole person of the Mediator thus constituted. But as the pre* 
sent argument does not so much relate to the actions as to the sufferings 
of Je^us Christ, I will confine it to the latter ; because if these belong 
to His whole person, there will be no dispute about His actions. 

So far are the Scriptures from limiting the sufferings of Jesus Christ 
to His human nature ; and so important were th6 sufferings of His 
whole complex person in order to our reden^ption, that they frequently 
refer His sufferings, and even His death, to the Divine nature. Not 
that unincarnate Deity can suffer, as was said before, or that tho 
human nature was excluded from sharing in His sufferings : but so 
important were the sufferings of the Divine, in union with the human 
nature, that they are made prominent, and are chiefly, though not 
wholly, regarded. 

Thus St. Paul : — 'Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of 
flesh and blood. He also Himself, likewise, took part of the same ; 
that through death He might destroy him that had the power of death, 
that is, iko devil : and deliver them who through fear of death were all 



268 Ckaraeter of ChrUVs Aciiims and Sufferingt, 

their lifetime subjeet to bondage. For verily. He took not on Him 
the nature of angels, but He took on Him the seed of Abraham. 
Wherefore in all things it behoved Him to be made like unto His 
brethren ; that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in 
things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the 
people. For in that He Himaelf hath suffered, being tempted, He 
is able to succor them that are tempted,* Heb. ii, 14-18. 

Let it be remarked here, 1. That the person spoken of throughout 
this passage is the same * who took flesh and blood,' or as St John 
expresses the same seii^ent, * was made flesh ;' by \i^hich we under- 
stand the Divine nature or Deity of Jesus Christ. 2. The personal 
pronoun ffe, throughout the whole passage, refers to the Divine nature, 
its antecedent. It was that which ' took' flesh and blood — ^that through 
death (His own death) He might destroy death,' &c. At the 18th 
verse this is made emphatical, — For, in that ^He frtnMe//*.hath suf- 
fered,* &c. 3. At the 9th verse death is said to have been the object 
for which ^ He waamade lower than the angels.' This must, therefore, 
be decisive of the point 4. The suffering of death is .one of the 
things affirmed of Hinu It follows, therefore, either that the Divine 
nature suffered alone, or that it suffered in union with the human 
nature. But as the suffering ^oken of was posterior to the incarna- 
tion, and the Scriptures in milny places refer his sufferings to the 
complex person, I have no doubt the apostle intended that here. The 
septiment that the Divine nature did not suffer, stands directly opposed 
to the spirit and grammatical construction of th^ whole passage. 

. The same apostle has a remarkable passage in his Epistle to the 
Philippians, chap, ii, 6<»8 : — * Who being in the form of God, thought 
it not robbery to be equal with God : but made Himself of no xeputa- 
tioni and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the 
likeness of men, and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled 
Himself and became obedient unto death, even the dei^th of the cross.' 

Remark, 1. The person *who was in the form of God' — 'who 
thought it not robbery to be equal with God,' was the Divine nature, or 
Deity of Jesus Christ* In this all sound Christians are agreed. 
2. The same Divine person who * took upon Him the form of a servant' 
became obedient unto death. This is clearly shown by the connecting 
particles. I say as before, the spirit and grammatical copstruction of 
the passage require this meaning to be given to it How would it 
answer to read this, and many other passages, as they understand 
them who exclude the Divine nature from iedl participation in suffering? 
He who * was equal with God, made Himself of no reputation — ^took 
upon Him the form of a servant-^was made in the likeness of men,' 
* humbled Himself,' and He, the human nature, died, * even the deadi 
of the cross.' There is now a palpable violation of the rules of lan- 
guage, and the passage becomes a new text in the Bible* 

The appellation Christy is used not only as the name of onr blessed 
Savior, but whenever used it regards him as a complex person, — ^I 
mean that it is never used for the human nature alone, nor for the 
Divine nature alone, but always for the two natures united. This is 
evident, because it designates Him as the Savior^ and the Savior is 
constituted by the union of the human and Divine natures in one 
person. As oflton, therefore, as it is asserted in Seriptun» that Christ 



CharaeUr of .ChritVs JStctiam and Aiff^ning^ 269 

«iiffered or died^ my firoposition is sustained, tbat not a part, but the 
whole person of ouf Savior suffered and died. Thus : — * Ought not 
Christ to have suflTered these things,' Luke xxiv, 46 : * That ChrisI 
should suffer He hath so fulfilled,' Acts iii, 18 : ' Opening and alleging 
that Christ roust needs have suffered,' Acts xvii, 3 : ' In due time 
Christ died for the ungodly,' Rom. Vt 6 : * Christ died for us,' verse 8. 

The passages which speak of the sufferings and death of Christ axB 
' too numerous to be recited here. Now^ if these passages designate 
the God-man, two natures in one person, then it foUowe that neither 
the human npr the Divine nature suffered alone or apart from the other, 
but that the whole person suffered. The reason is clear, neither th« 
human nor the Divine nature alone is Christ, but both united in on* 
person. 

The same is to be observed of all the appellations given to owr 
Redeemer ; because they all regard him as God-man, the two natures 
united in one person. And whatever is affirnied of this person, whether 
action or suflbring, is affirmed of the whole person, and not of the 
human or Divine nature exclusively. The appellations Jesus 
, ChrisU Messiah, Savior, Redeemer, Son of God, Son of man. Lamb 
of God, Man, God, &c., apply to Him as a complex person, and to 
His actions and su^erings as the actions and sufferings of His whole 
person. 

The- glorious personage who appeared to St. John in the isle of 
Patmos, and conversed with him, is allowed, on all hands, to be the 
Divine Savior, the God-man Jesus Christ, though he speaks as God| 
or in His Divine nature. Ho speaks as no man or created being cai^ 
speak: *I am the First -and the Last, the Almighty.' An inspired 
apostle pays him religious homage : * To Him be glory and dominiop 
for ever and ever. Amen.' Tet the same apostle tells us that it was 
He who ^washed us from our sins in His own blood,' and calls Him 
the ' first begotten from the dead.' And when the apostle ' fell at His 
feet as dead,' He laid His * right hand upon him' saying, * Fear not; I 
am the first and the last : I am He that liveth and was dead; and be* 
hold I am alive for evermore*' Rev« chap. i. How it is possible to 
understand this language of the human nature alone, is to me incon^ 
ceivable. 

St, John in his Gospel, chap, x, 17, 18, records the following word^ 
of our Savior : ' Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay 
down my life, tliat I may take it again. No man taketh it from me* 
but I lay it down of tny$elf: I have power to lay it down^ and I havt 
power to take it again*' 

The character of the person who speaks here is to be known from 
what is spoken. And who. beside the God-man Jesi^s Christ ha^ 
« power to lay down his life, and power to take it again?' If we allow 
that a man has power to lay down his life, yet no man has power to 
take his life again, that is, to raise himself from the dead. Beside^ 
if to lay down, and take again the life of the mere man^ was all that 
was required of the Son of God, He could have accomplished this 
without becoming incarnate. And let it be remarked, that if the mere 
human nature suffered, there was a separation of the two naturea, and 
the Divinity was as truly unincarnate, as before the notion took place. 
But that there was no separation of the two natures appears from th^ 

23* 



270 CharaeUr of ChrMi Aethfm and S^ermgi. 

use of die personal pronouns « I,' and * my :' * I have power to \aj 
down mjf life/ which could not be used by the one nature for, or of, 
fhe other* This would be such a violation of *the rules of language 
and propriety as nothing would justify. It follows that the person 
who spMks and who lays down his life was the Divine Son of God. 

But, who has power to lay down his life ? We must take the word 
power in this case to imply rights as well as power ; for otherwise, to 
tay down life would be a lawless and vicious act Who then, I ask, 
has the oght to lay down his life ? We are warranted in saying that 
no man« that no created being has this right Creatures, whatever may 
be their rank, are dependent for their existence, and have no right to 
lay it down. It is true, that when God requires it, it is their duty to 
submit ; but they have no right to be voluntary in this matter. Volun- 
tarily to lay down life would be a violation both of the law of nature 
and of God. And God can only require this in the case of those 
who have sinned, and thereby forfeited life and every blessing. He 
cannot require creatures who never sinned to lay down their life. The 
supposition shocks us. Before their existence they had done nothing 
to deserve being created at all. Their creation ro^e from the goodness 
of God : and after their creation, if they had not transgressed, the 
same goodness, end even justice would forbid the infliction of punish- 
ment Death is punishment of the most painful and terrible kind, 
and could not be inflicted where it was qot deserved. But Jesus Christ 
volunteered His life for our redemption. He said, ^ Here am I, send 
me !* It is true, the Father is represented as sending his Son to die 
for sinners. But this sending is predicated of the voluntary ofler of 
the Son. God accepted the ofler, but could not require the service. 
He could not require it, His Son being innocent It is contrary to all 
our ideas of moral justice to require the innocent to suffer for the 
guilty. If then God could not require this of His Son, He being infi- 
nitely innocent and pure, and if no creature has a right voluntarily to 
lay down his life ; in what point of light are we to view the act of 
Christ when He says, * I have power, that is, right as well as power, 
to lay down my life V Clearly, we must view it as the act of an inde- 
pendent being, that is, as the act of God. As G^d He had a right 
which no creature has or can have, and might, if he pleased, lay 
down His life for the transgressors. 

It was necessary that the sufierings of Christ should be voluntary, 
to become either meritorious or just ; and to be voluntary it was neces- 
sary that He should be God : whence it is that He adds so emphaticall)^ 
Jfo wan iakeih my life from me, hut I lay it down of mysflf : / haoe 
power to lay it doton, and I have power to take it again* In this 
language wje hear the voice of one who is greater than man, we hear 
liie voice .of God. 

* Qmc Lord's receiving this commandment of the Father is pot to be 
considered as the grodnd of His power (or right) to lay down and 
resume His life; for this He had in Himself and therefore He had an 
origiad right to dispose thereof, antecedent to his Father's command 
or commission: but fdnseommission was the reason why He thus used 
His power in laying down His life.' (Coke in loc.) 

I will ofdy farther temwk upon this text that it is evidently the 
language «f ^o» who is v^t^ than human, — ^it is the language of 



CkmrtteUr of OhfUfw Acitont and Sufferingi. 871 



die whole eomplez person of our Lord ; and if so, it clearlj foDows 
tiiat the death spoken of was also the death of the same complex 
person: otherwise He must be understood as saying, *I have power 
to lay down the life of that part of mysdf which is human, and 
I have power to take it again.' But this would be to make a new 
text, and introduce a solecism where our Savior is most explicit and 
emphatical. 

In 1 John ill, 16, we read, * Hereby perceive we the love of God, 
because He laid down His life for us.' ^ After all the criticisms upon 
this text ; and though the phrase, of Go'id^ is not' in it, * yet,' says Dr. 
Clarke, * it is necessarily understood.' It is only necessary to remark 
here that God ot Ckriit must be in the text, and it makes no matter 
which. If God be in the text, the Divine nature of Christ must be 
understood ; if Ch|[ist, we know that He is both God and man, united 
in one person. 8o that wheUier God or Christ be in the text, we have 
both Godjand man. It follows, then, that suffering -is predicated of 
the Divine nature as the most important part of the complex person of 
our blessed Savior. Nothing less than this can preserve the text. 

A similar passage is found in Acts xx, 28 : * Feed the flock of God 
which He has purchased with His own blood.' Few passages have 
divided critics and commentators more, than this. The manuscripts 
and versions, says Dr. Ckrk^^t'give three readings-^* the Church of 
God ;♦— of * the Lord ;' and of the » Lord and God.' Mr. Wakefield, 
as Dr. C. observes, is for retaining the common version thus far, — 
fud the flock of God^ but varies the following phrase thus-*6y JSia 
own Son. . But all ray readers will agree with Dr. C. in his remark 
here. . * But as the redemption of man is, throughout the New Testa- 
ment, attributed to the saeriflcial death of Christ, it is not likely that 
this very unusual meaning should apply here. At all events, we learn 
here that the Church was purchased by the blood of Christ; and as to 
His Godhead, it is sufficiently established in many other places.-*- 
When we grant that the greater evidtoce appears to be in favor of. 
Feed ike Church of the Ldrd which He hath purehiued teith Hit own 
blood; we must maintain that, had not the Lord been Goo, His blood 
could have been no purchase for the souls of a lost world.' So that 
which ever reading be adopted, &e conclusion will inevitably be, that 
the sufferings of the- Divine nature of Christ were considered by the 
apostle of such great importance, that they seem to be referred to that 
alone. 

\ The Scriptures make the sufferings of the Redeemer the ground of 
His exaltation^ and His exaltation the reward of His sufferings. In 
Phil, ii, 8-11, the apostle having told us that He who thought it not 
robbery to be equal with God, humbled Himself and became obedi- 
ent unto death, even the death of the crosjs,' goes on to say : * Where»- 
fore, God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name that 
is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should 
bow,* of things in heaven and things on earth, and things under the 
earth ; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord 
to the glory of God the Father.' 

Here . let it be remarked, that the apostle' is not speaking of the 
natural dignity and exaltation of the Son of God, but of an exaltation 
€««nded on His hutitiiliation and sufferings/ If the whole eomplex 



872 CkarmeUt of ChrUe$ AcHatu md S^eri$^g9^ 

person of our Redeemer is exalted, it follows that the whole suffered, 
if the Divine nature is exalted, it follows that the Divine nature 
suffered. If the human nature is exalted, then it will follow that the 
human nature suffered : because the suffering lays the foundation for 
the exaltation, and the exaltation is the reward of the suffering* The 
rule is a definite one, aod cannot mislead us. It establishes the con- 
nection between the suffering and the exaltation, so that if any part of 
the complex nature of the Redeemer did. not suffer, it is undeniable 
that that part could not be exalted as a reward of suffering. It would 
be altogether unreasonable and absurd to say that one part of a com- 
plex being is exalted as a reward for the suffering of another part 
fiut allowing that the human nature alone suffered, it will follow, 
according to the rule, that the human nature alone is exalted, and that 
too to the rank and character of Deity, and as such receives the hom- 
age of every rational creature in heaven and on' the earth.. But no 
person can be so exalted as a reward for suffering but He who is 
essentially God ; because none but God can be worshipped. 

This will introduce another thought. He who suffered and died for 
the sins of the world is now actually worshipped by all the heavenly 
host, in conjunction with all them who have been redeemed from their 
sins, who are on the earth. Let the reader here consult the whole of 
the 6th chapter of the Revelation, especially the following passages : 

* And I beheld, and lo, in the midst of the throne, and of the four 
beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been 
slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits 
of God sent forth into all the earth. And when He had taken the book, 
the four beasts, and four and twenty eiders fell down before the Lamb, 
having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odors, 
which are the prayers of saints. And they sung a new song, saying, 
Thou art worthy to take the book and to loose the seals thereof: for 
thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God out of every kindred, and 
tongue, and people, and nation ! And I beheld and heard the voice of 
many angels, &c, saying with a loud voice. Worthy is the Lamb that 
was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory,4ind blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, 
and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and 
all that are in them, heard I, saying. Blessing, and honor, and glory, 
and power be unto ^ Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the 
Lamb for ever and ever.' 

Let the reader observe here, ^r4<,.that the worship paid to the Lamb 
proves Him to be God. Secondly, The Lamb, the person who re- 
ceived this woriship, had been alain. If this is not evidence that the 
Deity of Jesus Christ suffered, His being slain does not imply 
suffering. 

Having thus far advanced the Scripture evidence in support of the 
position that the whole complex person of our Lord suffered in re- 
deeming a guilty world, it may not be amiss to show what our Church 
in her 2d article teaches on this subject : — 

« The Son, who is the Word of the Father, the very and eternal God, 
of one. substance with the Father, took man's nature in the womb of 
the blessed virgin ; so that two whole and perfect natures, that is to 
say, the Godhead and manhood, were joined together in one person, 



CharaeiMT of Chri9V$ Jtciicm and Suffmngi. 273 

never to be divided, whereof is one Christ, verj God and very man, 
who truly suffered, was crucified, dead and buried, to reconcile the 
Father to us, and to be a saexifice, not only for original guilt, but also 
for actual sins of' men.' 

In this we have a plain description of our Lord's person, as * very 
God and very man, two whole and distinct natures united in one per- 
son, — never to ht divided ;' of which person it is said that He * suffered, 
was dead and buried.' Note, that the person of Christ, not a part only, 
suffered and died. This is not the same as saying that the Divine, or the 
human nature suffered and died. Befote the union of the two natures, 
each constituted a distinct person ; but by the union they are brought 
into one, and forma complex, person, which has personal identity. What 
might be affirmed of each before the union is one thing, and what after 
the union, another. It could not be affirmed of the Divine nature before 
the union of the two natures, that it suffered and died ; nor can it be 
affirmed of the Divine nature, after the union, that it suffered and died ; 
but this may be affirmed of ^ the ftrnon composed of the two natures. 
And this i» affirmed in the article. But if the human nature alone 
suffered, the complex person did not suffer, but only a part of it, — the 
iden^tY ^^ person is destroyed, and we have not one; but two whole 
and entire persons ; one of which suffered, the other not. On this 
ground the two natures are as tinily separate, as they were before the in- 
carnation. For neither the human nor the Divine nature alone consti- 
tutes the identky of our Savior's person, but both united. 

The opinion that the union of the two natures continued while only 
one suffered; and that the sufferings of the human nature were, 
therefore, the sufferings of the Divine nature, while the latter suffered 
nothing, has been adopted prematurely. If the identity of the complex 
person of Christ remained during His sufferings. He might, wiUi 
propriety, speak of His blood shed for the many, and of His life which 
He gave for the world ; for in that case the whole complex person 
suffered. But if the two natures were divided, and the Divine did not 
suffer with the human nature, then nothing can justify His claiming 
the merit of suffering, or calling the blood shed His blood. We must 
therefore admit that the whole complex person of our Lord suf- 
fered, or give up the article under consideration. 

I might here also urge, as a reason why the Methodists especially 
ought to receive this doctrine, that it is contained in the hymns which 
iAse Church has ^iven to assist our devotions. Many of our hymns con- 
tain the sentiment, and that unequivocally expressed, that ^e Divine 
nature partici|>ated with the human in those sufferings by which tha 
world was redeemed. Thus the 187th hymn : — 

* O liove Divine, what hast thoa done t 
The immortal God hath died for me ! 
The Father's co-etemal Son 

Bore all my sins upon the tree — 
The immortal God for me hath died : 
My Lord, my Love, is Graoifyd.' 

See also the 196th hymn — 

* Le, the powers of heaven He shakes* 
Natore in convulsion lies ; 



374 CfutroeUr of Ckritfi Jfetumi and Sufferings* 

Earth's profenndert eentn qaakut — 
The^ great Jxhoyah dies.* 

I will quote onljr one more, though I inight many. Hymn 191: — 

* Well might the mm in darknen hide. 

And diat his glories in. 
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,' &o. 

There are but two ways to account for this language of our h3rmii8. 
The first its by considering it as highly figuratite, and thus resolving it 
into the license granted to poets« In reply it may be said that it was 
never conceded to poets to give false sentiment. Figures are used in 
poetiy for illustration and embeltishment, and are the garb of senti- 
ment But if the sentiment that the Divine nature did not suffer with 
the human in obtaining our redemption, be true, no license could ever 
make the use of this language either correct ^r safe. 

The other way of accounting for this language is to consider it as 
referring to the complex person of our Savior, the most important 
part of which is the t)ivine nature. If, however, the sentiment that 
the whole person of our Savior suflbred, be tnconect, the voice of 
the Church can be no authority in the case. But while she* is so clearly 
Scriptural in her hymns, and is allowed to be so by all her ministers, as 
well as other members, it becomes us to receive her instruction and 
defend her doctrine. 

Having beard the voice of the Scriptures and that of . our own 
Church on this sublime and important point, it may not be amiss to hear 
what two of the greatest divines that have lived since the Reforma- 
tion have also said upon it, I m^aii the pious and learned Richard 
Baxter, and the Rev. J. Wesley. 

^ Mr. Baxter's sentiment is to be found in his Aphorisms of Justifi- 
cation, Thesis vii :-*- 

* The will of the Father and Sofi are one : die Son was a voluntary 
undertaker of this task : (the satisfying for the sins of men.) . It was 
not imposed upon Him )>y constraint *■ when He is said to come to 
do His Father*s will it doth also include His own will. And when 
He is said to do it in obedience to the Father, as it is spoken of a 
voluntary obedience^ so it is spoken of the execution of our redemption, 
and in regard to the human nature esp^ially ; apd not by the under- 
standing of the Divine nature alone. Not only the consent of Christ 
did make it lawful that He should be punished being innocent ; but 
also that special power which, as He was God, He had oyer His own 
life more than any creature hath ; ** I have power," saith Christ, ^' to 
lay down my life," John x, 18. 

' No mere creature was qualified for this work : even the angeb that 
are righteous do but their duty, and therefore cannot supererogate or 
merit for us. Neither were they ab)e to bear and overcome the penalty. 

♦ It must therefore be God that must satisfy God ; both for the per- 
fection of the obedience, for dignifying of tlie duty and suffering, for 
to be capable of meriting, for the bearing of the curse, for the over- 
coming of it, and doing die rest of the works of the Mediatorship, 
which were to be done afler the resurrection. Yet mere God it mfust 
not be, but man aiao : or else it iVould have been for^riveness iirithout 
satisfaction, seeing (itaere) God cannot be said to make satisfaction to 
Himself.' 



Gh^roder of Ohriie$ Jiciim9 and Sn^mngn. Vt% 

I know Bof that aay remarks or expomtion here ore needed, or ttat 
the sentiment can be made any plainer. The an&or has expressed 
himself ciearly and guardedly ; and if there be any definite meaning 
in words, the sentiment is, that neither the human nor Divine nature 
suffered alone, but both together, and the reasons are given-'flMiii 
e<mld not merit — eauld nai bear and overcome tke eurae ; it must 
therefore be God for these purposes, and for doing the other works of 
the Mediatorship. Mere 6od it must not be, but man aZ«o^ or God 
and man united. 

The sentiment of Mr. Wesley is the same with the above; for he 
published an abridgment of the Aphofiftm's of Baxter, retaining this 
paragraph, and thereby stamping it witti his approbation. 

Having thus briefly considered what may , be said in favor of the 
)iropositioQ, that all the actions and sufferings of Christ, after the union 
of tide two natures, were the actions and sufierings of His whole com- 
plex person, I will consider what may be said in objection to it 

Objection I. *Itis said in the Scriptures that Jesus Christ was 
put to death in the flesh; — that He shed His blood for us ; and the 
Scriptures in many placeii teach that He suffered as man : what pro- 
priety is there then in involving the Divine nature in suffering? If 
the Scriptures teach that He suffered as ma% what authority have we 
to say He suffered as God V 

Answer I. The Scriptures do indeed teach that Jesus Christ suffered 
as man, but nowhere teach diat He suffered only as man, or that He 
did not suffer as God and man united. 

2. The Scriptures call our blessed Savior the man Christ Jesus, — 
the Son\3ff man, and the man of sorrows ; and therefore, if we reason 
like the objector, we must say with the Socinian that he was a mere 
man, and the account of the ipcarnation is all a fable. The argument 
in die one case is as good as in the other. 

3. If the phrase, * suffered in the flesh' is to be understood as ex- 
cluding the i>ivine'nature« it must exclude «hN^is human soul ; and 
th<eh we have this sentiment, that the sufferings of Jesus Christ were 
merely corporeal, neither His soul nor the Divine nature having any 
share in them. 

4. Whatever appellation is given to our Savior, whether man or 
God, Son of man, or Son of God, must be understood as designatmg 
His whole complex person ; because it is previously ascertained and 
admitted that both the human and. Divine natures are united in His per- 
son. Accordhigly the sufferings of the man Christ Jesus^ are the 
sufferings of His whole (Complex person ; and when it is said that the 
Alpha and Omega died, — ^that He who thought it not robbery to be 
equal with God became obedient unto death, it is to be understood 
in the same way, of the whole complex person. There is then no 
evidence whatever Ihat the human nature alone suffered; seeing the 
Scriptnres refer His suffering indifferently id the Divine or human 
nature. 

Objection 2. There were certain conditions or states in the life of 
Christ, in which the inter-i-communication between the two natures must 
have been suspended, and in which the human nature alone could have 
been concerned ; as when He is represented as ^ increasing in wisdom 
and stature,' (which imply a state of ignorance and weakness,) as 



S7f CkatrOfCUr of Ckri$i^ Aeikm omI A^mrngi. 

sleepiog and in death* And if in theae aUtoa the Divina nature eookl 
not* partake with the human, the aame may have been true in ot^er 
cases ; especially in respect to suffering, where we should expect the 
inter-communiqation between the two natures would be suspended. 
There is therefore no absurdity in saying this, * He suffered as man* 
that He $poke and acted as God !' 

Answer. It is not pretended that the proposition defended in this 
jEssayhas no difficuUies attending it; but ihese difficulties may not be 
in the dpctrine of an inter-communication in suffering, but in our lim^ 
ited faculties, and the narrow capacity of our minds. I reason in this 
case as the believers in the doctrine of the trinity and the incamatioB 
of the Son of God have always done. These doctrines we cannot 
explain, but we believe them, notwithstanding, on the evidence of Di-> 
vine revelation. Do we act consistently then when we object to the 
doctrine of inter-communication in suffering in the caae of our Saviour, 
merely because it is attended with difficulties 1 

The only question to be settled here is. Is this doctrine taught in 
the Bible 1 Do the Scriptures inform us that the whole person of our 
Lord suffered for our redemption t To ray understanding they do, and 
that with a clearness of evidence not to be resisted. It is true we 
cannot tell how the whole comple;L person of our Savior increased in 
wisdom and stature ; how he slept ; how he died ; or what was in aU 
respects his state in death. And were we to limit the inquiry to the 
mere human nature, we shall find inexplicable difficulties. Who can 
tell ^010 the complex creature, man, increases in wisdom and stature — 
sleeps and dies ; or what is precisely his condition in these several 
states? These conditions of man, as far as they affect the body, are 
submitted to the observation of our senses ; but who can tell how the 
soul is affected , in them ? And yet we know that the man grows, 
sleeps, and dies, and not merely the body. Even so the complex per- 
son of Christ increased in wisdom and stature, slept and died, though 
we cannot tell, precisely, what was His condition in either of these 
states, or how all the parts of His person were affected by them* 
Important reasons are assigned for his passing through every state or 
condition of human beings : * Wherefore in all things it behoved Him 
to be made like unto His brethren ; that He might be a merciful and 
faithful If igh Priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation 
for the sins of the people,' Heb. ii, 17. Here we are taught Uiat it 
was highly expedient, that our atoning High Priest should pass through 
all the states, passive as well as active, to which human creatures are 
subjected, that He might be a propitiation for their sins, and sanctify 
every state and condition lying in their path to heaven. Again it is 
said, ' We have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with the 
feeling of our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted like as we are, 
yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of 
grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time o€ 
need,' Heb. iv, 15, 16. In order that He might be our sympathizing 
High Priest, He consented to be tempted in all points like as we are ; 
but as a great part of our temptations grow out of, and are connected 
with those and other states, through which we are destined to pass. He 
consented also, in all things, to be made like unto His brethren, by 
passing tlurough them Himself. And what Christian does not con- 



Chmr^eiit of ChrUP$ Actions and Sufferingt^ 2T7 

tinually thank €Mi that he is not required to travel a way his Savior 
never trod 2 And how cheerfiiUy we sing,-*- 

« The pravM of all the tainU He hleee'd. 
And sweetened every bed ; 
Where should the dying members rest. 
Bat with their dying Head.' 

Objection 3. There was no necessity for the Divine nature to 
sufier. The human nature derived infinite dignity and value from its 
union with the Divine, and its sufferings were therefore sufficient 
for the redemption of mankind, without the sufferings of the Divine 
nature. 

Answer 1. This method of deriving merit is no where taught in 
the Bible, nor is it consonant to reason, as being that, on account of 
which we are redeemed, justified, and saved. 

2. Worthiness or merit is not derived in this way. The eondescen* 
sion of a superior to an inferior, adds nothing to the reci di^ty and 
worthiness of the latter. The merit is. his who condescends ; and the 
greater the difference in the dignity and character of the two persons, 
the greater the condescension and merit. Merit, in the present case, 
is so far from belonging to the human nature, by derivation, that it is 
every ^ere m Scripture, and by the whole Church, attributed to the 
Divine nature, and never would have been ascribed to the human 
had the sentiment been properly investigated. Was there ever 
a person, since the Savior was announced from heaven, who in his 
devotions and prayers admitted this view of merit — ^huroan merit thus 
derived ? Are we not taught to look to Christ, and not merely to His 
human nature, for salvation, and to offer all our prayers and thanks- 
givings in Hia name, on His account, for His sake ? Surely a sentiment 
which we cannot practise upon in our devotions should have no place 
in our creed. The truth is, that merit is wholly from the dignity 
of the Divine nature, and from His humiliation and obedience unto 
death. 

Objection 4. The grand objection to the doctrine of this Essay is ' 
this : It is said that ' Jesus Christ could not suffer in his Divine nature ; 
that happiness is an essential attribute of the Divine nature, and of 
course the possibility of His suffering is excluded.' 

Answer. It is not clear to my understanding that happiness is an 
essential attribute to the Divine nature, or that it is an attribute in « the 
sense that integrity or holiness is. It appears that the happiness of 
the Deity is rather a result, so to speak, of the perfection of His nature 
and the rectitude of His conduct. God cannot be otherwise than holy : 
He cannot do wrong. But if He is pleased voluntarily to dispense 
with His happiness for a time, in view of accomplishing the greatest 
possible good to the universe, I can see no objection to His doing so. 
In tiius suspending for a time His happiness. He violates no principle 
of moral holiness, nor departs in the least from infinite rectitude. . 

And is it not too much for us short-sighted creatures to say, that He 
cannot suffer pain, when He tells us in so many words, that ^ He has 
power to lay down his life V and. that He ' took flesh and blood for the 
puipose of suffering death?' 

Those who say the Divine nature did not suffer, seem not to be 
Vol. VI July, 1835. 24 



278 Character of Chri$f$ Adiem and SufimrimgM* 

aware q£ what their wordi imply. Did He not suffer an edip«e of Hi9 

floiy when He became incarnate, and appeared in the form of a servant ] 
kt perhaps it is meant that He could not suffer pain. By what rea* 
soning or argument this distinction can be made to appear, I know 
not- Cannot an infinite being suffer pain as well as suffer an eclipse 
or obscuration of his glory? But waiving this, let us consider the asser- 
tion that the Deity * cannot suffer.' 

Was sot the life of our blessed Savior upon earth made up chiefly of 

suffering and pain ? Was there no suffering implied in His taking our 

nature and infirmities, and in bearing our sicknesses ? Was there no 

suffering im|^ed, when He * who was rich became poor, (emplted £ftm* 

Hlf^) that we through His poverty might become rich V Was there 

no suffering, when He who wn» in the bosom of the Father left that 

felicity for a stable and a manger ? Did the Son of God suffer no pain 

when extreme poverty placed His condition below the foxes which 

have holes, and the binls of the air which have nests? Was He a 

stranger to Weariness and thirst ? Did He not conflict with the powers 

of darkness, and endure the most painful temptations.from His adversaiy 

the devil? Was He not reviled, and slandered, and persecuted by the 

very beings He came into the world to save? Did He not resist 

unto blood, striving against sin ? Was the Divine nature present with 

the human, and did it suffer nothing during His bloody agony in the 

garden ? If present, how did He support the human nature in the sense 

of the objector, when He was appalled, dismayed, and overwhelmed, 

with the weight of what He felt, and what He anticipated ? And v^at 

support did the Divine nature administer to Him, when upon the cross 

He cried with a loud voice to the Father, *My God ! My God ! why 

hast thou forsaken me-*and gave up the ghost?' Did the ^on of God 

feel no pain when He was betrayed by one of His disciples, denied 

by another, and forsaken by all ? Did He feel no pain when, as &e 

King of die Jews, He was insultingly confronted with false witnesses, 

scoiurged, crowned with thorns, and crucified? Or did He suffer all 

these things as man only ? Let the convulsions of nature speak, and 

let their voice be heard. Suffering made up and terminated the life 

of Christ upon earth ; and shall we still be told that all these pains 

were suffered by His mere human nature ? Yes, tiiis is the objection. 

But where was the Divinity all this time ? If it forsook the humanity 

in its suffering, we have a human Savior indeed : if the two natures 

remained united in one person, they were one in snffering. 

We have not done with the objection, and on one condition will 
admit its validity : If it was the humanity which was rich, and for our 
sakes became poor ; if it was the humanity which was in the form of 
God, and thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but made 
itself of no reputation, took the form of a servant, &c ; if it was the 
mere humani^ (called * the Lord thy God') which was tempted in 
the wilderness ; if the Metdah who, tibirst^ and weary, sat upon 
the well, and conversed with tibe woman of Samaria, was the mere 
humanity of Christ ; if the « Alpha and Omega,' who was ^ dead,' ^d 
die ^ Lamb who was slain,' were the mere humantiy^ then I will ac- 
knowledge the objection to be valid. 

It seems not to be considered by the objector that the humiliatimi 
of the Divine Word coomstedt net mar^y in His becoming ineamate, 



€hatacief of Chri$Vs Aeiiona mid 9uffermg$» 279 

but in His becoming incarnate for a special purpose, namely, that He 
might do and suffer all that was necessaiy for the redemption of tha 
-world ; and that after the union of the two natwres, whatever is done or 
suffered, is done or suffered by the person thus constituted, and not 
merely by a part of it If we say that Jesus Christ did not suffer in his 
Diviae nature, for what purpose did He take human nature? Was it that 
He might perform certain actions which imply no suffering ? Ti^ im- 
ply this who say the Divine nature did not suffer. But where do we 
leara this ? In what part of the word of God is it to be found ? It surely 
is not where the Father saith, ^ Awake, O sword, against my Shepfurd^ 
against the Mtm that is my fellow, saith the Lord !' Who is the Shep- 
herd here but He who had life in Himself, and had power to lay it 
down, and who did actually lay it down for the sheep? The Man 
here spoken of was the ' Fellow^ of the Almighty. But who is the 
fellow or companion of the almighty Father but the Divine Son ? 

t would ask the objector, whether the Son' of God, by becoming in- 
carnate, was not ' made under the law,' the moral as well as the 
ceremonial, and that for the double purpose of obeying its precepts 
and sufiering its penalty ? If he says yes, there is an end of the con- 
troversy ; if no, I would ask him to inform us in what sense, and for 
what purpose He was made under the law ? Was it the human nature 
alone that redeemed us from the curse of the law, by being made a 
curse for us ? Or was the Divine nature, in union with the human, 
made under the law without being made a curse for us ? To be under 
the law is the^ birth-right of every human being ; but the phrase, to 
be * made under the law^ is no where used to express the natural con- 
dition of man, as a subject of law ; but implies the special act of the 
Deity, in subjecting the Son of God to the condition of mankind, with 
reference to the law which requires obedience, or suffering the penalty 
for disobedience, and which in the case of our Redeemer required boUi 
obedience, and suffering the penalty of our disobedience. If t^en the 
Divine nature in union with the human was made under the law, that 
He might redeem us from its curse, on what ground of truth, or pro- 
priety can we say the Divine nature did not suffer ? 

If Jesus Christ suffered only in His human nature^ notwithstanding 
the language of the Scriptures is so full and explicit on the point, I 
cannot see that we have any definite rule to guide our inquiries, Ji>ut 
every^one is left to his own fancy in deciding what was appropriate to 
the human nature, and what to ^e Divine. One may say, thie thing 
was proper to be said and done by the human nature, diat, by the 
Divine ; and except we allow that the two natures acted and suffered 
together in the whole work of redeeming sinners, how can we tell what 
was done by the humanity, and what by the Divinity of Christ ? 

Is the objection to be understood as lying against all suffering on 
the part of the Divinity, or only against the principal sufferings, as 
the agony in the garden, and the passion on the cross? To aU suffer- 
ing undoubtedly. For by what rule can it be shown that He can 
si^r in one degree^ and ];iot in two ? or in two degrees, and not in 
three? The objectkui is^tl»t it is * impossible for the Deity to suffer,^ 
that is, in any degree^ But in the way of this there are insuperable 
<yffieultiea. 

Of the pivinity bf Christ it is said, that » though He was rich, yot 



280 Character of Ckri$Vs Jietiam and Sufferingi. 

for our sakes He became poor.' This is unirersally understood to be 
spoken of (he Divinity alone. Man Wtui never rich, but always poor. 
But the privation of heavenly happiness and glory, and subjugation to 
poverty, imply suffering in a high degree. This privation and subjuga- 
tion were not for a particular time or occasion, but for the whole time 
of our Savior's life upon the earth. And why do we make such a dis- 
tuiction between the actions and sufferings of Christ 1 Does not action 
frequently imply suffering, especially such action as we find in the life 
of our blessed Lord ? He took upon Him the form, and sustained the 
character of a servant : ' I am among you as one that serveth,' are His 
own words to His disciples. His was a life of laborious action and 
weariness ; so that we may well say, — 

* A suffering life my Master led.' 

Now if we subtract, not only the greater, but the lesser sufferings from 
His life, even those of privation and laborious action, what do we 
leave ? Would not this make a blank in His life and character, which 
we should behold with horror and grief? Would it not be a subversion 
of His most important ofiices, as our Redeemer ? If we say the Divine 
nature did not suffer, we leave the human nature to sustain all the 
suffering necessary for our redfemption, and also to perform neariy the 
whole active service of the Redeemer upon earth. Might we not as 
well turn Socinians at once, and humanize His person and His actions 
as well as His pains? But then what shall we do with the Scriptures? 
Shall we torture and press them into a service they never contemplated? 
To say nothing of the numerous proofs of His Divinity and incarna- 
tion, how shall we understand innumerable passages, which expressly 
or b^ implication refer suffering and death to the Divine nature, in 
connection with the human ? For example. How can we understand 
Acts XX, 28, without admitting the substance of Dr. A. Clarke's com- 
ment ? * When we grant,' says he, ^ that the greater evidence appears to 
be in favor of. Feed the Church of the Lord which He has purchased 
with His awn blood ; we must maintain that, had not this Lord been God, 
His blood could have been no purchase for the souls of a lost world.' 

Again. How could we comment Col. i, 18, without admitting 
the following : ^ The beginning here mentioned, {who is the begin^ 
ning ?) is very different from that spoken of before ; and yet ^^t« begin- 
ning, which is His resurrection, is plainly laid down as a foundation 
of the principality and headship which He holds over the Church. 
He was the beginnings with respect to the creation of all things, being 
tlie Lord, or first bom of etery creature ; He is the beginning and 
head of the Church, being the first bom from the dead : the first who 
ever rose to an endless life. In all things^ means m all respects; not 
only as the Maker of all things, but as die Mediator raised' from the 
dead.' {Coke in loc.) 

The passages which cannot be fairly commented without admitting 
the suffering and death of the complex person of our Savior, are very 
numerous, and are thus commented on by all sound interpreters of the 
word of God. I would not however represent that they have all adopted 
the theory of this Essay ; nor can I see how they are consistent with 
themselves, or with the word of God, when they limit the sufferings of 
Christ to His human nature. 



C&ar«6ltr of Ckrists Jlction$ mid A^mngiv 381 

Thus I have exhibited some of the principal proems of the propoai- 
iion with which we started, and have answered aJl the principal objec- 
tions which I have either heard or could think of; and must now le^ve 
the subject vhh th^ candid reader, who would do well to look carefully 
into it before he decides. And let him reflect that it is one which 
must be decided by reyelattoi), and not by be reason of man. If the 
Scriptures teach that the whole pompier person of our Savior suffered, 
that is the truth, and must be received, notwithstanding any difficulties 
that human reason may not be able to solve. If this is not die doctrine 
ef the Bible k is to be rejected. 

The question discussed in the foregoing pages, as it involves the 

charaeter of the actions and sufferings of Christ, must be allowed to 

be important It involves to a high degree the character of Crod, and 

the character of man, and the relation and obligations subsisting 

between them ; it stamps the value of the human soul, and exalts, or 

otherwise, as (he question is decided, the whole system of vaveaM 

religion. The entire system of revelation rests ,on flie sacrificial death 

of Uie Son of God, as a building on its foundation. It has always 

been the glory of the Christian that he has a Divine and infinite Savior^ 

and he mcaasures his obligations to Him by the dignity of His person^. 

and the labors and sufferings He has sustained in h^ redemption. He 

confesses Him in his creed, prays to Him as his God, and praises Him 

in his songs. And he does right thus to worship his Redeemer. The 

more high^ he exalts His character and sufibrings the more accepts*^ 

ble will his worship be, and the greater its saving effect upon his own 

heart. But let it never be supposed that the writer, in what is here or 

elsewhere said, supposes that their worship must be defective and 

unsound who differ firom him in their views of the main position of this 

Essay. He utterly disclaims every sentiment and feeling of the kind ;. 

and for any word or sentence that might be so construed, he casts 

himself on the charity of his Christian brethren, and would ask pardoi^ 

of God and man. 

And may bo^ the reader and writer be pernntted to mingle their notes 
of thanksgiving and praise with that innumerable company who shall 
sing with a loud voice, * Worthy i$ ike Lamb thai was sMn, to reawe 
power^ and riches, and wisdom, and strengthf and honor, and glory^ 
and blessing.^ Amen. 

T. Mbr&itt. 

N. B. As truth, and not victory or novelty, is the object of the 
fioiegoing Essay, and as the Scriptures alone can decide v^ether our 
Savior suffered in His whole person, or only in a part of it, the writer 
takes this opportunity to say, that should any one reply to what he haa 
written, he mM not fedi himself bound to answer, unless his meaning 
should ibe nusapprehmded. If any one will show, by Scripture mi 
sound niytment, that ha theory suod argiunenta are unsound,. I^e ehaS 
have ths thanks ef the author. 



282 Cluiraeter of ChriiVt Aetumi and Suffmngi, 



APPENDIX. 

After the foregoing Essay was wholly written^ I obtained, through a 
friend, the si^t of a volume of sermons and sketches of sermons by 
the Rev. R. Watson. In Sermon 37th, on * The Sacrifice of Christ,' 
I find the main position of the Essay clearly asserted. In showing 
the superior excellence of the great Christian sacrifice compared with 
the sacrifices under the former dispensation* he says, — 

* But that which carries the value of the offering to its true height,-^ 
if we can call that height which is above all height— is, that it was the 
blood of Christ; of the whole and undivided Christ, who was both 
God and man. For, though a Divine nature could not bleed and die, 
a Divine person could. This distinction is to be kept in mind : for 
the person being one, the acts and sufferings of each nature are the 
acts and sufferings of the same person, and are spoken of interchange- 
ably. 

^ Hence it is that the apostle adds, so emphatically, '' Who through 
the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God." I am aware 
that some modern commentators apply this to the Holy Spirit ; but the 
fathers and others, more property, apply it to the Divine nature of our 
Lord ; and in any other view the verse makes a very confused sense. 
The meaning obviously is, that Christ through^ or by means off His 
Divine nature,^— here called the '* eternal Spirit," as in Rom. i, 4, 
^^ the Spirit of Holiness,'* offered Himself, without spot, to God. No- 
thing less than this could constitute that sacrificial oblation which should 
take away our sins. But it was done ; Divine blood was shed to wash 
away our sins ; and so to demonstrate the Divine justice that we 
might escape its terrors. 

^ It is this intimate and inseparable connection of the Divinity of our 
Lord, this hypostatical union with His person and work, which gives 
to both that peculiarity which lays the foundation of our absolute faith ; 
and it may be profitable to dwell a short time upon it. 

^ It is this wluch invests His humanity with that Divide character ; so 
that by virtue of the personal union we worship Him, without idolatry, 
as God. Thomas touches His very flesh ; and yet falls at His feet, 
and cries, " My Lord, and my (iod !" 

' It is this which gives to His teaching its absolute and immediate 
authority. The lips of the man do but speak the oracles of the en- 
shrined Divinity within. In. the prophets, the stream of inspiration 
comes through the channel of holy men : in Him it bursts from the 
fountain-head of Divine and infinite wisdom itself. 

^ It is this which gives that spotless and unstained cleaniess and per- 
fection to His example. That example was indeed human, or it could 
have been no example to us ; yet all rested upon the base of a higher 
,natiu:e ; all was exsdted and glorified by the latent Godhead ; like some 
radiant cloud, soflened to human gaze, but still deriving its splendor 
from the unapproachable light of the very sun which it veils. 

* It is this which gives their peculiar character to His miracles. 
Prophets and apostles wrought miracles in the name of a higher Lord ; 
He wrought miracles in His own name. The virtue was in Himself;, 
and it flowed so that those who touched Him lived. 



Charaeter of CkrUP$ Aeiiam tmd Sufftringi. UM 

• 

« It is tins which gave to His ministrations a character possessed 
by none beside. He was not a mere publisher of the good news of 
pardon and salvation. He was a dispenser of these blessings. He 
forgave sin in His own right ; and conferred at once a title to heaven« 
and a meetness for its enjoyments. 

< It IB this which exhibits the peculiar lowliness and abasement of 
His humiliation ; and explains the mysterious words, ^^ Who, though 
He iras rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we through His po- 
verty might be rich." '^ Who heing in the form of God, thought it not 
robbery to be equal with God ; but made Himself of no reputation, 
and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the like* 
ness of men." 

^ It is this which gave their mysterious depth to His sufferings. I 
enter not into the question whether the Divine nature could, by a 
voluntary act, suffer. That veil is not to be lifted up by mortal specu- 
lations. But those sufferings were such as no mere man could 
undergo. 

* The lart mysterioQs agony ; 
Those fainting pangs, that bloody sweat ;* 

that sorrow of a spirit which had no sin of its own to sorrow for ; 
that recovery from such a struggle, so as to be able to go through His 
trial with calm dignity ; those words of majesty, " I have power to lay 
down my life, and I have power to take it up again ;" that power to 
dispense paradise to a fellow sufferer ; that voice so loud afler so many 
agonies ; that dismissal of His spirit ; that life from death, at the 
streaming forth of which the bodies of saints rose, and appeared in the 
holy city ; all enforce from us the exclamation of the Roman officer, 
" Truly this man was the Son or God !" Thus He offered Himself io 
God ; and it was this that gave its special character to His sacrifice, 
and rendered it such a one as never before had been offered ; and of 
a value so full and infinite, that it needs not to be offered again. ^* By 
that one oblation" He hath obtained eternal redemption for us. Such 
is the foundation of our faith in this atonement. The blood by which 
the Church is purchased is the blood of God.' 

In the foregoing extracts the reader wiU find the main position of the 
Essay, that the actions and sufferings of Jesus Christ are the actions 
and sufferings of the God-man ; or as Mr. Watson expresses the sen- 
timent, *• the whole and undivided Christ, who was both God and man.' 
He will find also the same distinction made, in reference to suffering, 
between the incarnate and unincamate Divinity. ^ Though a Divine 
nature could not bleed and die, a Divine person could.' Other points 
of comparison, or rather sameness in the sentiment of the two treatises, 
I need not point out to Uie reader. Suffice it to say that Mr. Watson 
has portrayed the influence of the sufferings and death of the ^ whole 
and undivided Christ,' on experimental aad practical piety, in a strain 
of eloquence peculiarly his own. T. M. 

JVew-ForAr, Feb. \9th, 1836. 



264 Jbt. RiehMrd 3Ve/ipy'« 



AN ADDRESS TO THE YOUNO MINISTERS 

WHO WERl ADMITTED INTO FULL CONNECTION WITH THE WE8LETAN- 

METHODIST CONFERENCE : 

Delhtred August Bth^ 1834, ai the City'Road ChapeU London. 

By the Rev. Richard Treffrt. 

Mt Dear Brethren, — For more than half a century, the practice 
has prevailed among us, of furnishing the young men who have been for- 
mally admitted into our body with a few words of advice, adapted to their 
circumstances as Christian ministers. This was formerly done by 
individuals selected from among our senior preachers; who were 
supposed, by their age and experience, to be most qualified for ike 
work of giving suitable instruction to their junior brethren in the 
ministry ; and most solicitous that the doctrine and discipline of 
Methodism, in all their purity and simplicity, might be transmitted to 
future generations : and I distinctly recollect, thirty*eight years ago, 
standing at the foot of this pulpit, and receiving such ihstructions, 
some portions of which are fresh in my memory even at this day. 
But in the year 1813, a rule was made, which rendered it imperative 
upon the president of the conference for the preceding year, to address 
to the preachers, who had been received into full connection, * in the 
presence of the congregation, an appropriate charge.' No apology, 
therefore, on my part, is necessaiy, for the liberty I take in speaking 
to you on the present occasion. May the Lord give us His blessing, 
and crown this service with His special presence ! 

When I consider the great responsibility and peculiar perils, 
incident to the wprk in which, by the great Head of the Church, you 
have been called to engage, I feel disposed to select, as the ground of 
my present remarks, some passage of a specifically cautionary and 
monitory character; and the more so, because a prevailing conscious- 
ness of this responsibility, and a salutary watchfulness against such 
dangers, will not only be likely to render you secure, but will insure to 
you a progressive improvement in your personal characters, and your 
ministerial qualifications. An admonition of St. Paul to Timothy 
seems very suitable to my purpose. You will find it in the First Epistle 
to Timothy, the fourth chapter, and the last verse : * Take heed unto 
thyself, and unto the doctrine.' The first part of this advice referred 
to Timothy in his personal, and the second in his ministerial, character; 
the one to hi/s conduct as a Christian, the o&er to his office as a preacher. 
Nor do I know of any advice within the whole range of revelation, 
that is reiterated more fi*equently, and in more varied forms of expres- 
sion, than this, * Take heed unto thyself.' It is found in the writings 
of the Old and New Testaments, of the prophets and apostles ; and 
even our Savior Himself deemed it of sumcient importance to leave 
it on record for the instruction and admonition of mankind. Allow 
me then to say, — 

1. Take heed to your bodies. I do not think it beneath the dignity 
of this place to remind you that some of the dangers to which you are 
exposed are such as affect the body. The. caution in the text may 
therefore be naturally supposed to involve the duty of caring for your 



JUirei$ to Tfmg Mim$kr$. 2M 



health. Timodiy was most probably an afficted man : he had 

^ tn&nmties ;' and from the circumstance that St Paul recommends 

him to *• use a little wine,' as an antidote to them* we may infer, that 

they were not moral but physical infirmities, not of mind, but of body. 

Hence it is evident, that even the apostles themselves were ordinarily 

bound to employ the usual means for the preservation of health : they- 

could occasionally work miracles, and heal the most inveterate diseases ; 

but tbey were not always invested with this wonder-working power. 

Paul could not heal Trophimus, and therefore left him sick at Miletus ; 

nor could Peter heal his wife's mother ; nor could Timothy, by any 

supernatural agency, counteract the influence of his physical infirmities. 

It would not be improper in this place to suggest to you the value 
of health, in promoting your personal comfort. But I prefer to assume 
a higher ground \ and to remiud you, that, apart from the considera- 
tions of usefulness, health is the highest natural blessing' with which 
you can be entrusted ; and your responsibility is proportioned to its 
importance. If any express Scriptural confirmation of this view were 
necessary, it might be gathered from the figures employed by the 
apostle, to illustrate the sanctity of even the bodies of believers. 
They are, he tells us, ' members oS Christ,' and ' temples of the Holy 
Ghost ;' and though the inference which he draws fi^om these repre- 
sentations respects the purity with which our bodies should be preserved, 
yet a reverent care of them seems equally to be impUed in it. If he 
who defiles Uie temple of God renders himself a subject of the Divine 
displeasure, surely he who negligendy allows it to fall into decay, or 
who rudely shakes its walls, cannot hope to be held guiltless. 
. And if to this consideration you add the claim which God has upon 
you to employ your healtl) for the special benefit of the Church, the 
subject rises in importance. As ordinary Christians, you are not your 
own ; you are bought with a price, and on this fact is grounded the 
duty of glorifying God with your bodies, as well as with your spirits, 
both of which have been the subjects of this costly purchase. Nay, 
more : you emphatically are not your own ; you have ceded all right 
to yourselves ; you have transferred to the Church of God the claim 
on all your powers of body and soul. This day have your vows been 
made in the presence of your brethren ; and, having been long be- 
trothed, you are now married to your great ofiice ; mese vows have 
tacitly, if not explicitly, bound you to devote your physical powers to 
the service of the sanctuary ; and any prodigal expenditure of your 
health is a breach of your contract, a contract recognized by the 
Church in heaven, and registered by the Church on earth. Need I 
then urge upon you the necessity of the obligation? 

You are not the men, I most conscientiously believe, to interpret 
those cautions as warranting a sickly ^eminacy, or an unmanly self 
indulgence. Some of you have already, for the w(»k of the Lord, 
been brought nigh unto death ; you have been ambassadors to the 
heathen; and your labors in foreign and inhospitable clinaes have 
enervated your frames, and cast a sickly hue upon your countenances ; 
and to one of you I may say, ^ You bear about in your body the marks 
of the Limi Jesus ; you have been imprisoned in a colonial jail, for 
your unflinching a^erence to your ministerial duty.' With grateful 
delight the Church ranks you among her confessors ; nor do I doubt. 



9M Jbo* Riehard TVcJiy* 

Ihatt ahould the period ever anive, in which othera among you shall be 
called to the endurance of still more seyere and more complicated 
calamities, you will rejoice to be counted worthy to sufier for your 
Savior's sake. 

It must be allowed that a minister's life is a life of peril ; and espe- 
cially a MethpdiM preacher's life. It is true that in this country be 
is not in danger from the rude attacks of lawless and riotous mobs ; 
the arm of violence is not now raised against him ; he can generally 
pass unmolested through the land. Yet he is in labora more abundant ; 
he preaches more sermons than almost any other minister, and fre- 
queotly in houses crowded almost to suffi>cation : and, after having 
engaged for hours in tiie work of his Master, he- has to go, streaming 
with perspiration, into the chilling atmosphere, to face the bitter blast, 
and encounter the pelting hail, or the drifting snow-storm, in his way 
to his humble habitation. I was lately in company with a minister of 
our body, whose * eightieth year was nigh,' who declared, that he had 
preached from two to five sermons daily, for six weeks in succession, 
beside travelling through a great extent of country in die depth of 
winter. There are many things in a Methodist preacher's itinerant 
life, which I need not particularize, that can scarcely fail to sap the 
foundation of the strongest constitution, and destroy the most vigorous 
health, without a due degree of care and precaution. There may be 
special cases when self preservation must be merged in the welfare of 
society, and when physical evil may, by a marvellous process, generate 
moral good ; but health is too serious a thing to be unnecessarily sacri- 
ficed. There is a zeal without prudence as well as without knowledge ; 
and he who expends a more than ordinary share of physical and men* 
lal energy in the service of the sanctuary, ought to be fully persuaded 
in his own mind that he is doing God service, and that such a sacrifice 
will be acceptable in His sight 

Many of you whom I have the honor of addi^ssing are young ; 
your health is good ; your constitutions are strong ; and your native 
vigor has never yet been wasted by disease. But young persons, for 
want of experience, are frequently presumptuous, and preaumption 
induces incaution, and hence they unawares rush into danger. There- 
fore take heed to yourselves ; and while on the one hand you guard 
against a needless self indulgence, be no less cautious on the other, 
in watching against a prodi^ exhaustion of your physical powers. 
Afflictions must corner they are the never-ftiiling lot of humanity: 
but do not antedate their arrival. Consider how easy it is to entail 
diseases upon your constitutions, which you may carry with you 
through life, and which may affect posterity no less than yourselves. 
And should any of you be laid aside from the active duties of itine- 
rancy in the morning of your days, and be obtiged to eke out life on 
the scanty pittance allotted to invaUds, then how bitter the reflection 
will be, thatt but for your own culpable imprudence, you might be still 
sounding forth the word of the Lord, and preaching righteousness to 
great coi^egaitioAS ! 

It is foreigp from my design to furnish you with rules for the preser- 
vation of your health ; that is the busmess of the physician, rather 
than the preacher. Let it suffice for me to say, ^t by attention to 
diet, and exercise, and rest, — by orderly habits, and_well«regulated 



Jiddttu i0 Tmmg MmiMen, f ST 

conduct, — ^]pou dMNild labor to word off die attacks of diaeaae ; and if 
you inak6 these matters the subjects of conscientious care, we maf 
reasonably hope that, in general, you will be, by God's providencoy 
preserved to bless the Church, and enlighten the world. - 

2« Take heed to your souls. This is naturally suggested by a eon- 
sideration of thdr incalculable value. For what is the body to the 
soul? TFhat is the olwff to the wheati What is the frail and cor- 
ruptible casket to the rich and imperishable jewel which it contains 1 
iVhat is a mass of animated mould, however exquisite in organizap 
tion, or perfect in symmetry, compared to an intelligent spirit, stamped 
with the indelible character ofimmortality, and designed by its Creator 
to flourish in immortal youth, and triumph in existence ^ And if the 
care of an object, and the interest for its welfare, should bear a pro- 
portion to its excellency and value, how high, how entire, and how all- 
absorbing, should be the care of your souls I 

* The 8oul*8 hi^h price is the creation's key ; 
That is the mighty hinge on which have turn'd 
All revolutions ; whether we regard 
The natural, civil, or religious world.' 

Every argument which has been employed to induce you to be so* 
licitous updn the subject of your health, is applicable in a higher degree, 
and with a more commanding emphasis, to this noblest object of human 
responsibility. Considerations of your own happiness, your high trust, 
the redeeming work of the Lord Jesus, your vows to God and His 
Church, all urge upon your attention the great duty of taking heed to 
your souls. 

That you have already regarded the spiritual welfare of your souls, 
I cannot doubt. You have made a good profession before many wit- 
nesses of the Scriptural character of yomr conversion from the error 
of your ways. You have acknowledged in the presence of this large 
congregation, that, though you were as sheep going astray, yet that 
you are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls ; and 
that you have ' redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of mne, 
according to the riches of His grace.' Havi^, therefore, tasted that 
the Lord is gracious, and been made partakers of the Holy Ghost, 
take heed that you continue in the grace of God ; that you retain a 
sense .of sin forgiven ; that you exercise yourselves to have alwajfs 
consciences void of o^ence toward' God and toward men ; and tlutt 
you walk in the light as God is in the light. And this can be done 
only by making advances in the Divine life, * pressing toward the 
mark for the prize of the high caUing of God in Christ Jesus,' and 
*• growing up into Him in all things, which is the head, even Christ,' 
jmd seeking deeper baptisms, and larger effusions, of the Holy Ghost 
There are many reasons why you ^■'ould do this. The religion which 
you profess to enjoy, and which you preach to others, is all pro^es- 
sicm ; it is a conquest that you are to achieve ; it is a way in which 
you are to walk ; it is a race you are to run : advancement in it is 
essential to its retentitm. He who does not advance must decline* 
Consistency, therefore, obliges you to practise in yourselves what you 
press upon Uie consciences of others. You have also depraved im- 
mures ; sin may be pardoned and subdued, but it is not wholly eztir* 



1 



2S8 Jtev. Riekmrd Tr^ryU 



pated ; the entail of moral evil is not jet cut off; you may be justified 
freely without being sanctified wholly ; the carnal principle may exist 
where it is not suffered to reign ; but unless you watch and pray, and 
guard your senses and all the ayenues of your heart against temptation, 
and seek for the utter destruction of the evil of your natures,, sin will 
revive within you ; the strong man, armed, will regain possession of 
his palace ; and, after preaching to others, you yourselves will become 
castaways. Remember, too, that you have a heaven of immortal 
glory and happiness to secure, and a hell of insufferable pain and pun- 
ishment to -escape. Preaching the Gospel will neither prepare yoctfor 
the former, nor save you from the latter. You may preach like angels, 
and yet perish like devils. You may hold the torch of truth to li^bt 
others to heaven, while you yourselves are sitting in darkness, and in 
the region of the shadow of death. « Many,' saith Christ, ' will say 
unto me in that day. Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name, \ 
and in thy name have cast out devils, and in thy liame done many 
wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew 
you : depart from nfie, ye that work iniquity.' Many are now in hell, 
who once warned others against it ; and ministers will be saved at last, 
not because they have been rendered instrumental in saving others, 
but because they were personally interested in the infinitely meritorious 
sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. And unless you take heed to your 
own souls, and retain the savor of piety, how ill-qualified you must 
necessarily be to watch over the souls of others ! How can you dis- 
charge the duties of your office, when the spirit of that office is departed 
from you ? How can you travail in birth for the salvation of men, 
when you are neglecting to work out your own salvation t With what 
conscience can you declaim against lukewarmness in religion, when 
you yourselves are at ease in Zi^ n 1 How can you hope to season 
othersf when the salt that was in you has lost its savor ? or expect that 
God will employ you to enlighten others, when the light that was in 
you is become darkness ? For it roust never be forgotten, that minis- 
terial success is wholly of the Lord. ' Except the Lord build the 
house, they labor in vain that build it : except the Lord keep the city, 
the watchman waketh but in vain.' * Who is he that saith, and it 
cometh to pass, when the Lord commandeth it not V ' I have planted,' 
says St. Paul, * ApoUos watered ; but God gave the increase. So 
then, neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth, but 
God that giveth the increase.' Do you expect God to succeed your 
labors with His blessing ? then maintain communion with Him. God 
honors them most who honor Him most. The holiest ministers are 
the most successful instruments of good to society ; their prayers are 
most prevalent with God, and their example is most influential among 
men. Would you desire, therefore, to turn many to righteousness, 
and to shine as the stars for ever and ever ? — take heed to your souls, 
keep them with all diligence ; watch with godly jealousy over their 
spiritual interests, and commit the keeping of them to God in well- 
doing, as unto a faithful Creator. 

You must remember, also, that while your office places you under 
the strongest obligation to culttvate and retain the spirit of true tjeligion 
in your own isouls ; it subjects you to dangers from which ordinary 
Christians are in a great measure free. That very familiarity with 



L 



Jiddre$$ io Youf^ Mini$ier$» 289 

Scripture txalbi which may, and ought to be, subserrieat to your apiritiiai 
interests, is api to geaerate a formality* both io your- own ptety* and in the 
performance of your public duties. It is indeed a diffineult thing for a 
man who is perpetually inculcating the same truths, and in many cases 
in the same phraseology, to preserve in his own mind a sense of their 
vast and incalcalable importance ; and it is morally certain, that xinless 
you keep alive in yourselves the savour of vital piety, your preaching will 
degenerate into a mere professioiwd performance. Tou will declare the 
truths of God's word, and urge the duties of the Christian character, as 
matters of course. Nay, your puUic duties may, possibly, be the very 
means of drawing away your hearts from God ; and even before your 
hearers become conscious of the change, you yourselves may be sensibly 
shorn of your strength, and become feeble as other men. In such a case, 
a degree of melancholy self delusion, as to your own state, may in time 
result from your holy office ; and you may succeed in persuading your- 
selves that your familiarity with the things of Gpd may render less 
necessary the personal enjoyment of the power of godliness. The bare 
possibility of such a condition, which, I doubt not, you are convinced is 
by no means chimerical, should awaken in your spirits the most serious 
jealousy, and induce you to maintain habits of self exaniination and 
devotion, steady and powerful, in proportion to the greatness of the 
dangers by which you are threatened. 

In order to preserve your ministry from vapidness and formality, it 
is, as I have already suggested, necessary, in the first place, to main- 
tain the spirituality and life of your own Christianity ; but a secondary 
means, of no small efficiency, is the diligent cultivation of your minds. 
For if one principal danger to which you are exposed arises from your 
familiarity with Divine truth, an obvious saf<^uard against it may be 
found in the effort to give to that truth, both to your own minds, and 
in your preaching, that variety of form which it is capable of assuming. 
Hence you may seek the aid of natural science, and of profane history, 
and successfully lay these under contributions for the illustration of the 
topics of your ministry. Tou may find, in the cultivation of a correct 
style, and of the graces of a modest rhetoric and a chaste elocution, 
the means to awaken the attention of minds which would repel a dis- 
course that was vulgar in its diction, and in it^ general manner either 
dryly abstract, on the one hand, or bombastic on the other. These, 
however, are minor and subsidiary matters. The prayerful and diligent 
study of the Bible, the daily research into its meaning and its spirit, 
with such assistance as you can command, in the writings of our own 
and of other sound divines, will supply you with all the variety that can 
be desired. Let me remind you, that the Bible is not a book of texts 
merdy, but a revelation of truth, — truth, which is, in the first place, to 
imbue your own spirits, and which is then by you to be brought forth 
before the minds of your congregations. It is your business not only 
to search for passages on which to ground your discourses, but to en- 
deavor to learn and inwardly digest those great truths with which the 
Scriptures abound in such amazing variety. Do not fail to seek for 
expositions and illustrations of Gospel verities in human nature, both 
in its degenerate and restored state. And in all your pastoral inter- 
course, endeavor to resemble a skilful medical practitioner, who gathers 
hints concerning his patients from the color of the cheek, the sparkle 
Vol. \l.—July, 1836. 25 



t90 R09. RUhmrd Tr*ffry'$ 

of Ibe eye* or tfaooo ligliteil ciitumtttuices iriikb» to an oidmaiy minf, 
would pau unnoticod, or not underBtood. All your altiiiimeiits must 
Iwvo a practical, teadoncy. Every study which does not directly or 
indirectly bear upon your great work must be cast aside. The duties 
of your office are too important and too urgent to allow any indulgence 
in mere intellectual luxwy. Tou are bound to cultiyate your minds ; 
but to y/b»l extent finite spirits may improve in knowledge, is known 
only to God ; the provinces of human thought are illimitable ; aad 
the capacity of mani for the acquisition of intelligence, surpasses all 
description^ and defies all conjecture. 

* BratM soon their xenith reaeh ; their little all 
Flows in at once : in ag^es they no more 
Could know or do, or coyet, or enjoy. 
Were man to live ooeval with the sun, 
The patriareh pupil would be learning still ; 
Yet, dying, leaye his lesson half unlearnt.* 

The peculiar and sacred character of that mental improvement 
which you are bound to cultivate, you yourselves have specifically 
determined. To it you must give yourselves wholly, as the apostle 
exhorts Timothy to do, in the verse preceding the text ; or, as some 
critics tell us the passage should be rendered, * In these things be,' — 
exist, live in them ; let them be your atmosphere, surrounding you en 
every side, being the very support of your inteUeetual life, pervading 
your very being. It is not enough that you meditate upon them, but 
you are to be absorbed by them, without interruption and without 
decline. 

There are several peculiarities in your circumstances, which render 
it particularly imperative upon you to devote yourselves to the Scriptural 
cultivation of your minds. One of these is to be found in the character 
of the present age. We have done something in common with other 
Christum societies, and something peculiar to ourselves, in exciting 
among the people an intense thirst for knowledge. We have encouraged 
and established Sunday schools, both in our own country and in foreign 
lands. We have token a conspicuous part in the distribution of religious 
tracts ; we have established and extended a system of village preaching 
unexampled in the history of this country. Our venerable founder 
published a number of cheap elementary books ; and in the early 
volumes of the Arrainian Magazine, he inserted original papers and 
valuable extracts on scientific subjects, — a plan which has been, with 
more or less efficiency, followed up by succeeding editors. And it 
cannot be denied, that the knowledge of the people of England has 
increased to a degree which we cannot adequately appreciate. Shall 
I say that we have pledged ourselves to keep pace with them t We 
have done more ; by exciting the appetite for knowledge, and awaken- 
ing dormant intellect firom one end of the kingdom to the other, we 
have bound ourselves to keep in advance of them. It would be a most 
disgracefid issue of our labors, if we, who were among the first to stir 
the national intelligence, should now fall into the rear of its movements. 
Even were it possible that we could be forgetful of our tacit pledges, 
yet the enlightened clergy of the Church of England, and the pastors 
of dissenting congregations will not allow the ministry of the Gospel 
in our country to fall in its character behind the intelligence of the age. 



Jiddreu to Ym^ Mrnkkn. m 

Nw 18 it to be fargOtteii« that we, mm a cenneetien* hare hud m dmre 
in efiectiiig 6 great spiritual improTemenl in our laad* la some aemiet 
and with.hunible gratitude to God, it loay be said of us as a Ckurdir-* 

' Hither, as to their fount&in, other star* 
Bepairinf , in their golden urns draw light.' 

And if, after we haye been instrumental in producing an extensive re- 
vival of religion among other GluircheSf and, through it, an increased 
iaeellectual stimulus among other ministers,— if we should now Adl into 
a low intellectual condition, or fail to keep pace with our brethren of 
other denominations, we might, justly be assailed by severe reproach, 
and our names and places be covered with ahame. Far from us be 
the spirit of unhallowed and proselyting rivalry ; yet there is a righteous 
and pious emulation, which we are bound to cultivate ; and when we 
see Churches around us advancing in sound Scriptural knowledge and 
religious cultivation, we are called to renewed energy ttid unusual dili* 
gence in the work of the Lord« 

I take occasion, also to remind you, that with the altered circom- 
stanoes of the world and ^ Church, there is a change in your owfi- 
oondition from that of yt>ur predecessors ; and a change highly fiivor- 
able to the increased cultivation of your minds. Time was when 
Methodist preachers had few aids or opportunities for intc^ectuai 
improvement* A half century ago we were peculiariy itinerant preach* 
ers, incessantly travelling from place to place. Our circuits were wide 
and extensive. Much of the most valuaUe part of the day was spent 
on horseback. We had few books, and little time for reading them ; 
while among the people there was comparatively little demand for literary 
or intellectual accomplishment. The scene is now happily dbanged : 
we have time and opportunities for making that imprcJirement which is 
so imperatively required of us. The same resources as to general 
knowledge are open to you in commcm with the people of your charge ; 
while your facilities for theological improvement are superior to theirs.. 
There is a meaning in that arrangement of Providence, which has 1^ 
you less occupied than your fathers ; and God, by dius accommodating 
your circumstances to your duties, renders those duties imperative upotf 
you in a very high, and extraordinary degree. 

3. Take heed to your reputation. ^ A good name is rather to be 
chosen than great riches.' He who has any true- lore ibr Umself can* 
not fail to regard his reputation ; we naturally dtmre U> stand high in 
the estimation of those who are the objecto of our veneration : there 
are few so lost to virtue as to be heedless of their characters i we 
all deprecate the displeasure of our friends ; and a Christian minister's 
character should-be prizi^d above all price. Mudi of his success de^ 
pends on his reputation ; this has an extensive and beneficial tiStei on 
society. Many are drawn to the house of C^od by the attraetive influ- 
ence <^ reputable ministers; and from their mouth they receive. the 
word with gladness, which is able to save their souls. A preacher 
may have a &ie person, a pleasant voice, an agreeable manner^ and ar 
leady uttemaee ; but all this, widiout a character, is but as ^sounteg 
brass or a ttnUing cymbal.^ Even if a man's talents do not happen 
to be of a high order, yet if his hearers are irapcessed witti aeonvicabn 
that he is deeply pious, that his character is unsullied, thai he is labor- 



%92 Rev. Richard Trtffry'9 

ing in season and out of season to save soids from deaths they will 
receive him as a messenger of the Lord, and hoM sach in reputation. 
Then take heed to yourselves. Be all alive to the importance of 
sustaiaing a blameless character; a reputation that nothing can 
tarnish. You may not be always able to escape censure; but you 
may and ought to live so as not to deserve it. 

Nor is the importance of ministerial reputation the only view which 
this part of our subject suggests. Its delicacy and danger are also to 
be seriously considered. Remember that the standard by which men 
in general measure a Gospel minister is much higher them that by 
which the character of ordinary Christians is determined. Tou are 
supposed not only to be ensamples to the flock, but to be more familiar 
with Chiistian dttty« and more free from temptation, than such as are 
constantly exposed to the sensualizing influence of the world. Even 
in the openness and freedom of social intercourse, you are regarded 
with a JMlousy not designedly unkind, but certainly not the less severe 
and irrepressible. The moral sense of men in general, however ob- 
tuse to their own errors, is sufficiently delicate in respect to you ; and 
any failure on your part is almost sure either to lessen you in the es- 
teem of your flock, or to supply them with a license for irregularities 
in their own conduct, of which they will hardly fail to avail themselves. 
Buffer me to surest to you some of the most obvious evils, against 
which it is necessary, for the sake of your reputation, to guard : — 

And in the front of these I may mention levity. I am aware that it 
may be said, true piety is as cheerful as the day ; that a merry heart 
doeth good like a medicine ; that we are to serve the Lord with 
gladness ; and that His statutes are to be our songs in the house of 
our pilgrimage. But it should be recollected, that Christian cheerful- 
ness is widely different from imsanctified levity. The one is, in its 
principles and source, spiritual ; the other, carnal. The one is the 
overflowing fountain ; the other, the turbid torrent. The one is full of 
glory; the other, at least in its re-action, full of dejection and sad-' 
ness. Ministers of the Gospel, above all people upon earth, should be 
grave, serious men. Whether you regard the sanctity and responsi- 
bility of your oflice, or the deeply degraded and awfully perilous state 
of the world around you, or the comparative inefliciency of ybur ministry, 
you will find sufficient reason for cultivating a deep death*like seiiousness 
of mind. Wha.t will the people of your charge, whose souls you are to 
watch over as they that must give aiccount, think of you, if you promote, 
wherever you go, a spirit of levity, and evince a fondness for retail- 
ing stale, thread-bare anecdotes, only calculated to generate unhallowed 
mirtii ? If laughter is madness in any man, it is in a Christian miniS"* 
ter, whose sc4e business is to make people serious ; for the first 
requisite in religion is seriousness, and no impression can be made 
upon the mind without it 

You may also ii^ure your ministerial reputation by the indulgence of 
a haughty dispositi<m and carriage. There is no evil «i existence so hos- 
tile to the spirit and geaiius of Christianity as pride. Jesus Christ, the 
founder and patten of Chnsttanity, was meek and lowly in heart ; and 
He- humbled Himself unto death, even the death of diie cross. His 
primitive apostles were adorned wkh humbleness of mind. The dhree- 
tions which they give totheir converts were, ^ Be ^clothed with humility ;'= 



Adiresi td Vomng MUUderm^ Ml 

9xA * HttdUeYtpindvM ander Ae migMjr imd cf^otJ Hie « mc^T 
wUdi GMIfihres is «to te iMwbfe;' aad tlvMd wiA tvfMn the hmky 
deigi»loihpeH«M«uol|is«r»«f *«iiteM4etpkit,tora spint 

of. die l»iiille,^ftiid to revive Htm heart of tfie eeiitrite ones/ Wli^e 
thtte •» so many oweotiTes lo ku«iK^« aad #lttle jroa pteaeh dmt 
Ooapel which is deeigiied hj ite greaft Author to abaee the yf<m4» 
aad exalt the humbliet taike heed to joonelvea. Let not the feet oT 
jutfe come againet 7011 ;. guard againat tlie encroachfaeiits of thie aly, 
iaaiiBatiiig, buajr aiii, wfaidi, if not resisted* will epoil all that 700 ean 
do. Tea csaMiot be l^ed up with pride, without falling into the ooq- 
deouMitioii of the deviL And no human beings have more temptations 
to firide than preaehevs. Their office is the most sublime and digni- 
fied upon earth. The titles employed by < the Spirit of God to describe 
their work are indicative of their elevated character. The lyge and 
respectirible assemblies congregated to hear themy*«4fae high encomi- 
ums often bestowed upon their discourses by fawning sycophants, ful- 
aeme iSatterera or injudicious friends,— and the pride and naughtinesa 
of their own hearts<^*-4dl tend to make them think more h%hly of tbetil- 
advea thwi they ought to think« * Pride,' says an old diviiie, ' indite* 
our discourses for us, chooseth our company for us, forms our coun- 
tenaiiees, puts accents and emphases upon our words; and when 
pnde hadi madcf the sermon, it goes with us into the pulpit, it ferma 
opr tme, and animates us in our delivery ; uid when the sermon is 
done, pride goes home with us,.and makes us eager to know whetiier 
we were applauded or despised.' Think, ^n, 1 beseech you, how 
odioua-you must appear in the sight of God, and how contemptible in 
the estimation of your people, if you indulge a haughty disposition. If 
you sacrifice to your own net, and bum incense to your own drags, if» 
instead of being tremblingly alive to the awful responsibiiity of your 
situation, and the immortal interests of your auditories, you immolate 
truth at the shrine of popularity, and arrogate to yourselves the praise 
which is exclusively due to. Him who is jealous of His honor, ami 
who will not give Hts|^lory to another. 

Nor can you fail to injure your ministerial reputation, if you neglect 
the practice of pastoral duties. * I have,' says St. Paul to the Ephe- 
sian elders, * taught you publicly, and from house to house.' And your 
ofiice binds you to adopt the same practice ; you must visit the people 
of your charge, not for the purpose of worldly conversation, nor eveik 
mer^y to sit around their hospitable board, and partake of their boun- 
ties ; but that you may administer instruction, reproof^ or consolation,, 
as their circumstances may require. Some of your people may bo 
sufiering aflUction : these will need the consolations of religion ; for 
afflictions have anatoral tendency to depress the spirits ; and at such sea^ 
sons especially, the corruptible body presseth down the soul. Bf visit- 
ingthe chambere of disease, and sitting by ihe beds of languid^mentft 
you may become angek of mercy to the afflicted ; you may soothe their 
sonrowstcalm their fears, cheer their dejected spirits ; and while weep* 
ing wi^i those that weep, you may not only improve the tender sym- 
paUes of your own hearts, but be remmded by the solemn scenea 
around you, that you yourselves will, ere long, need all the consola-. 
tioQs which you now seek to administer to others. Some of your' 
flocks win, peihftps, wander from the foM, or be scattered in a douf^ 

r 2.5* 



M4 Rtv. Richard Tregrjfi 

and a dark day ; theae must be aoughl out* aad* if pc^Uef uidticed to 
return unto ue Shepberd and Btstiop ot their souls. Some may be 
overtaken in a &ult : these should be reproved in the spirit of meek* 
neast considering yoursel¥es« lest you also be tempted. In a word, if 
you would be ensamples to the flock, you must be blameiees and 
harmlesst without rebuke in the midst of a crodLod and perverse na- 
tion, shiiiiiig as the lights of the world ; that you may rejoice, in the 
day of Chmt, that you have not run in vain, neither labored in vain. 
And here let me remind you of what our venerated founder has 
said in those * Minutes' which you have all most solemnly engaged 
to make the rules of your conduct : ^ O brethren, if we could but set 
this work on foot in all our societies, and prosecute it zealously, what 
glory would redound to God ! If the common ignorance were buiished, 
and every shop and every house busied in speaking of the word and 
works of God, surely God would dwell in our habitations, and make 
us His delight. 

^ And this is absolutely necessary to. the welfare of our people, 
many of whom neither believe nor repent to this day. Look round, 
and see how many of them are still in apparent danger of damnation. 
And how can you walk, and talk, and be merry with such people, when 
you know their case 1 Methinks, when you look them in the fiu»e, you 
should break forth into tears, as the prophet did, when he lo<^ed upon 
Hazael ; and then set on them with the most vehement and importu- 
nate exbortatioos. O, for God's sake, and for the sake of poor souls, 
bestir yourselves, and spare no pains that may conduce to their salva- 
tion ! What cause have we to blush before the Lord this day, tiiat we 
have so long neglected this good work ! If we. had but set upon it 
sooner, how many more might have been brought to Christ 1 and how 
much holier and happier might we have made our societies before 
now ! And why might we not have done it sooner ] There were many 
hinderances ; and so there always will be. But the greatest hinder- 
ance was in ourselves, in our littleness of faith and love.' 

There are other subjects on which I might profitably treat, would 
our time admit of it ; but I pass on to consider the other p«rt of the 
advice : * Take heed unto the doctrine.' 

The word ^ doctrine' is of common occurrence in the Scripture ; 
but though it has some shades of difference in its signification, yet it 
generally means teaching, or instruction, or the communication of some 
kind of knowledge. And you must not forget that the ministerial 
office is an ordinance of instruction ; and you are called to be teachers. 
^ The priest's lips should keep knowledge, and the peof^e shoukl seek 
the law at his mouth.' ^ Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge 
shall be increased. I will give you pastors according to mine heart, 
which shall feed you with knowledge and understanding.' The Lord 
Jesus was a teacher sent from God. He went about all Galilee, 
teaching in their synagogues. * I sat,' saith He, ^ daily with you, 
teaching in the temple :' and He said to His disciples, * €ro and teach 
all nations ;' ^ and daily in the temple, and in every house, they ceased 
not^to teach, and preach Jesus Christ*' Take heed therefore to your 
teaching. 

1. Take heed of the subjects of your teaching. 

If aU that has been taught by men professing to be the ministers. 



Addren to T(mng MmUieri. SIM 

of Ghxiflt were the deett^es of Christ, the charge before us might 

be deemed uBnecesMory : hut almost ^8 soon as a Christian Churdi 

was established upon earth« false doctrines and heretical o^<mui 

hegan to be propagatjed. Men arose speaking perverse things, to 

draw swaj disciples idBter them : and there were false apostles, and 

deceitfoi workers, a^o corrupted the word of God, or adulteiated it 

widi £[>reiga mixUves, to suit the corrupt taste of their hearers ; or 

handled it deceitfully, making it speak sentiments foreign to the. 

truth. Hence, mention is made in the Scriptures of the doctrines 

of men, the doctrine of Balaam, the doctrine of Jezebel, doctrines 

of vanities, divers and strange doctrines, and even the doctrine 

of devils. Nor can it excite any sar{m8e that these doctrines are 

denominated the ^depths of Satan ;' some of the deep designs of the 

devil to deceive the simple. Had these corrupt opinions and damnable 

heresies been coi^ned to the primitive ages of the Church, and lived 

only in the page of history, there would have been less need for cir- 

comspection on our part : but error is confined to no dime, nor age, 

nor station ; it has descended with the lapse of years to us ; even in 

our day, the most monstrous absurdities are palmed upon the world ; 

and preach what doctrines you like, however much they may outrage 

common sense, or subvert our common Christianity, they cannot fail 

to win attention, inspire credence, and find adherents. 

Therefore take heed of your doctrine. Let it be sound, wholesome 
doctrine, such as will promote ihe spiritual health of all who embrace 
it: doctrine according to godliness ; such as God has revealed, and 
such as God sanctions, and renders subservient to the establishment 
and extension of practical godliness in the world : the doctrine of 
man's total depravity ; that he is far gone from original righteousness, 
and that in his flesh dwelleth no good thing : the doctrine of man'n 
practical sinfulness ; that all have sinned, and come short of the glory 
of Grod, and that every imagination of the thoughts of the heart is 
only evil continually : the doctrine of nian's helplessness ; that he 
is without strength, and morally incapable, of himself, of performing 
any works that are acceptable to God : the doctrine of mane's danger ; 
that as a sinner he is condemned already, and the wrath of God abideth 
on him ; and that he is every moment liable to be driven away in 
his wickedness into the lake that bumeth with fire and brimstone. 
Having set before your hearers their disease, never forget to announce 
theiv remedy : their disease entailed by the first Adam, and their 
remedy provided by the second Adam. * Preach the kingdom of €rod, 
and teach those things which concern the Lord Jesus Christ ;' which 
concern His eternal Godhead and His vicarious sacrifice. Let His 
atonement be your chief theme. * God hath set forth His Son to be 
a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare His righteousness 
for the remission of sins that are past;' and that propitiation is infi« 
nitely available for the sins of the whole worid. Jesus Christ by the 
grace of God tasted death for every man ; and his blood cleanseth us 
from all sin. It is the blood of God's own Son, who is Himself God 
blessed for ever ; and the blood of His cross, which was shed to re* 
eoncile all things unto Himself; and in that blood there is such an 
infinity of merit, that none need perish ; and none can perish, but such 
as reject the counsel of God against themselves, da despite to the 



Spiril of grace, tad couat the blood of the covtBaat aa uahely tMng. 
Aodt ia order to encourage your heerara to come to the foiaitttn 
opeiied for eia and for uiicleannea0« aad to avail themaelvM of all 
the beasts of redemption, aever forset in all jour minittralions the 
doctrine of a Divine influence ; that God will give His H<^y Spirit to 
them that ask Him ; diat Chriatiakiity b a diapenaatioa of the Spirit; 
the promise of the gift of the Holy Ghost being given to us, and to 
our children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord 
our God shall call. Time would &il me to enumerate all the subjects, 
doctrinal, experimental, and practical, on which it will be your duty to 
treat : let it suffice to say, that, as Methodist preachers, you beve 
pledged yourselves to preach the doctrines of Methodism ; doctrines 
which our venerated founder preached and published to the workl ; 
doctrines which we most conscientiously believe are of Divine origin, 
and agreeable to the analogy of faith; and doctrines, the preaching of 
which has, through the agency of the Divine Spirit, been so singuterlj 
successful in turning multitudes of men from the power of Satan unto 
God. 

2. Take heed to the principles by which you are actuated in 
teaching. 

Actions are the birth of principles ;» what is seen in the life is but 
the developement of what previously existed in the heart ; and the 
moral character of an action will be determined in the sight of God 
by the principle which produced it Men judge according to the out- 
ward appearance, — ^they have no other means of judging ; and if an 
action has^ a specious appearance, if it harmonize with their ideas 
of propriety, they cannot fail to judge favorably of it ; hence men's 
judgments of each other are at best dubious, and frequently erroneous. 
But God looketh at the heart ; He sees not only the outward appear- 
ance, but the inward reality ; He understandeth all the imaginations of 
ike thoughts ; the springs of action and the secret movements of the 
mind, are all naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with whom 
we have to do. 

We cannot question for a moment but what there are many selfish, 
sinister, and impious principles and motives, at work in the human 
mind. Sensuality sways the world, and worldly-minded men are 
wholly under its dominion. Moved by the curaed lust of gold, the 
miser ^ throws up his interest in both worlds.' For the love of honor, 
the ambitious man pursues * the bubble reputation even in the cannon's 
mouth ;' and to gratify the licentious passion for amusement, crowds 
of pleasures-taking tribes fly to the haunts of dissipation, 

* And wear about the mockery of wo. 
To nudnight revels and the public show.* 

And it is to be feared that many have usurped the office of the Ohrujtian 
ministry, under the influence of motives not a whit more justifiable in 
the sight of God, nor more creditable to themselves, than those which 
I have mentioned. 

How many pastors, either vain 



By nature, or by flattering made so, taught 
To gase at their own splendor, and t' exalt 
Absurdly not their office but thsmsalTet 1' 



Jidirw to T<nmg MimHen. 297 

And how many minister at the altar tor a mamtenanee, and insinuate 
themseWes into the priest's office for a morsel of bread ! Therefore 
take heed to 3rour pnnciples ; guard against the influence of (lelfish 
motives. If you are really the ministers of Christ, as you profess (o 
be, and as we esteem you, tiien He has put you into the ministry ; 
and love to Christ, and a sincere, soul«absort>ing desire to promote 
His gloiy, uid extend His knowledge in the world, must be your 
spriog of action. ' The love of Christ,' saith the apostle, « con- 
straiaeth us,' bears us away, and carries us forward in Uie discharge 
of our high commission* And if you lore Christ, you will love the 
souls He purchased with His blood ; you will deem no sacrifices too 
great, no labors too arduous, to bring back to Christ his long*lost 
property. For nothing constrains like love ; its attractions are irre- 
sistible : 5 many waters cannot quench love ; neither can the floods 
droilim it' It brings all its ofierings, and lays them at the feet of its 
object ; and in the spirit of sacrifice it does all to please duit object 

3. Take heed to the manner of your teaching. 

Yeiy much of the success of the Gospel depends upon the manner 
in which it is preached. Many mar the work of their own hands, and 
prejudice the cause which they desire to promote. Take heed that 
your teaching be plain and intelligible. Make your hearers to under- 
stand your meaning. Do not aim at instructing thent by adopting 
a style and phraseology which they cannot comprehend. The far 
greater part of your auditory will generally be plain people, people 
in the humble walks of fife, without literature, and perhaps widiout 
education : you should aim therefore at a Divine simplicity in commu- 
nicating instruction. It was quaintly said by one of the ancients, that 
* a divine ought to calculate his sermon as an astronomer does his 
almanac, to the meridian of the place and people where he lives.' 
St Paul, in writiiig to the Corinthians, says, * We use great plainness 
of speech.' « And I, brethren,' says he again, * when f came to you, 
came not with excellency of speech w of wisdom, declaring unto you 
the testimony of God ; for I determined not to know any diing among 
you, save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified : and my speech and my 
preaching was not with the enticing words of maif s wisdom, but in 
demonstration of the Spirit and of power.' * For,' says he, address- 
ing himself to the same people, * except ye utter by the tongue words 
easy to be understood, how shall it be known what is spoken t' Some 
darken counsel, by uttering words without knowledge ; having confused 
notions themselves, their words convey no determinate meaning, and 
their hearers understand them not, because they themselves know < 
not what they say, nor whereof they affirm. But whiie, on the one .' 
hand, you guard against metaphysical subtleties, bombasdc language, 
and high-sounding epithets, take heed that ion do not, on the other, 
adopt a coarseness of expression inconsistent with the majesty of 
evangelical truth ; vulgarity is no virtue ; and a low colloquial style 
of preaching often offi»nds, mther than conciliates ; and excites pre- 
juftice rather than attention. Religious truth should be set forth in 
its native simplicity and grandeur ; and its ministers should learn to 
discriminate between real beauties and meretricious decorations,-^ 
between the ornamental clothing and the tawdry vestment. 

Take heed that your teaching be pointed and persuasive. In order 



t9t A^* Kkhmrd Trejfirf^M 

ia tbiflt aeleei such texts Mid sufafec^ for ditc«sMOii« m have a diieet 
bearing on the present and eadleea interests of your hearers^ Revealed 
truth is univeisally importaat ; but it is not all of equal importance. 
There are superior and subordinate truths in religion : some of these 
are frequently brought forward* largely discussed, and pointedly insisted 
on in the Holy Scriptures ; others are only incidentally mentimied, and 
are rather intended as ornaments to decorate the temple g[ trudai tbaa 
pillars to si^pport it. And there are duties which* like the payment of 
tithe of mint, anise* and cummin* must not be left undone ; but there 
are others, such as judgment* mercy, and faith, which are called by our 
Savior* < weightier matters of the law,' idiich demand peculiar attention. 
Therefore bring before your congregations truths, the knowledge and 
practice of which are essential to their salvation ; and do not satisfy 
yourselves merely with propounding, explaining, or even confirming 
these truths, but press them upon the acceptance- of your hearers; 
make the most powerful, pmnted, and earnest appeals to their con- 
sciences. St. Paul, in ihe synagogue at Epbesus, * spake boldly for 
three months, disputing and persuading ih» things concerning the 
kingdom of God.' And, writing to the Corinthians, he says, ^ Know- 
ing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men.' Tou, too, 
must seek tp persuade men : persuade them to break off their sins by 
repenti^nce ; tc> cast away all Uieir abominations ; to have no fellowship 
with the unfruitful works of darkness ; to fly with outstretched arms to 
God their Savior, and to do it without delay* And while you have the 
armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, you can never 
be at a loss for strong reasons, pelrsuasive arguments, and subjects of 
forcible appeal to every man's conscience in the sight of God. 

Take heed that your teaching be kind and affectionate. The law 
was a ministration of condemnation and of death ; and the Jewish 
prophets were frequently sent with messages of unmingled wrath, and 
conunissioned to menace the people with God's terrible judgments,— 
to smite with the hand* and stamp with the foot, and say, * Alas, for all 
the evil abominations of the house of Israel !' The Gospel is a minis- 
tration of mercy ; it is a proclamation of peace, and good will toward 
men ; and therefore you must put on bowels of mercies, and affec- 
tionately entreat your hearers to be reconciled to God. Hear what 
the apostle of tfa^ Gentiles said to the Thessalonians : * We were 
genlie among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her children ; so, being 
affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to 'have imparted unto 
you, not the Gospel of God only, but also our own souls^ because ye 
were dear unto us.' ' Ye are witnesses, and God also, how holily and 
justly and unMamably we behaved ourselves among you that believe : 
as ye know how we ediorted and comforted and dmrged every one of 
you, as a father doth his children.' 

.But while you teach the people kindly and affectionatdy, take heed 
to do it faithfully. Do not let your affection degenerate into effeminacy, 
or pustllanimity. Guard against the indulgence of a sft^m, time- 
serving temper ; and never ima^^ that a soft, apish affectation, will pass 
as a si^Mstitute for Christian k^idness or mmisterial affection. A more 
affectionate and deeply-interested man than St. Paul the worid has 
seldom seen ; for he counted not his life dear unto himself, so ^t he 
might fulfil the ministry tbit he had received <tf the Lord Jesus : at the 



JUdna to Young Mmrien* 299 

same time, there were combined in him a digmfied demeanor, and an 
mmlable fidelity that rendered him proof against every temptation. 
With what fiutbfulnesa did he address himself to the Corinthians !-— 
^1 call God for a record upon my soul, that to spare you I came not 
as yetninlD Corinth/ Do not fail, therefore, to be faithful : faithful to 
the people, in keeping back nodiing that would be profkable unto them ; 
appoiodiig to eVery man his portion of meat in due season. For * it is 
requffed of stewards that a man be found faithful.' 

4. Take heed in your teaching that you keep in mind the great 
design for which the Gospel ministry is established. 

Remember it is not to amuse- your hearers with flights of fancy, or 
flowers of rhetoric. Nor is it merely to call them away from their 
secular avocations to the services of the sanctuary. Nor is it to make 
proselytes to mere opinions. But a Gospel ministry is established, 
first, to enlighten men's minds. Darkness covers the earth, and gross 
darkness the people ; hence they walk in darkness, and dwell in the 
land of the shadow of death. But ' the entrance of thy word,' saith 
the psalmist, * giveth light ; it giveth understanding to the simple.' 
* I send thee,' said Christ to St. Paul, ' to open their eyes, and to turn 
them fi*om darkness unto light.' Let your preaching, therefore, be 
luminous and instructive. The Gospel is a great light, — a light shin- 
ing in a dark |riace ; and ministers especially are to ^ be the lights of 
the world,' that being illuminated with true knowledge and understand- 
ing of God's word, £ey may, by their preaching and living, set it forth 
and show it accordingly. 

Secondly. A Gospel ministry is established for the purpose of af- 
fecting men's hearts. The human heart is naturally hard and unfeeling, 
and no morUd power can soflen'or subdue it. For however susceptible 
it may be of impressions from worldly objects, or however affected by 
the recital of a tragic story or a plaintive tale, yet toward the things 
of God and its own eternal interests, it is as cold and calloul^ as a 
stone. But *the word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than, 
any two-edged sword.' « Is not my word like as a fire, saith the Lord ; 
and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces V See the effect of 
Peter's preaching on the day of pentecost, when his hearers were 
pricked in their hearts, and, from a conviction of their heinous wick- 
edness, in crucifpng the'Lord of glory, exclaimed, ' Men and brethren, 
what shall we do? Aim therefore at producing similar effects by your 
preaching. Keep in mind that you are not only to open blind eyes, 
but to soflen hard hearts ; not only to illuminate the understanding, 
but to convict the conscience. And that you may affect others, be 
afifected yourselves. He who speaks from die heart speaks to it : 

' ' There is in souls a sympathy with sounds ; 

Some chord in unison with what we hear 
Is touch*d within us, and the heart replies.' 

Thirdly. A Gospel ministry is established for the purpose of regen- 
erating men's souls. Regeneration is an essential preparative for 
heaven ; for ' except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom 
of God.' And this Divine change is instruraentally effected by the 
preaching of the Gospel. * Of His own will,' saith St. James, * be- 
gat He us by the word of truth.' ' I have begotten you,' saith St. Paul, 



800 Rev. ItfcAard Treffry*M 

to the Coiinthians, * through the Gospel.' ^ Being horn again,' saith 
St. Peter, ' not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word 
of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.' Take heed, therefore, in 
your teaching, to insist on the absolute necessity of regeneration ; 
that nothing short of a new creation, or an entire renewal of the «oui 
in righteou3ne8S, can produce a moral meetness for the enjoyments of 
heaven ; and from a deeply radicated conviction of the utter inefficiency 
of mere human teaching to effect this highly important change in the 
soul of maUf cry mightSy to God that His Gospel, delivered by you, 
may come not in word only, but in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and 
in much assurance. 

Finally. A Gospel ministry is established for the purpose of building 
up believers on their most holy faith. ' When Christ ascended up on 
high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men. And He gave 
some, apostles ; and some,, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; and 
some, pastors and teachers ; for the perfecting of the saints, for the 
work of the ministry, fo^ the edifying of the body of Christ.' * And 
now, brethren,' said St. Paul to the £phesian elders, ' I commend you 
to God, and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you ijp.' 
And, as ministers, you have much to do, not only in seeking to convert 
sinners from the error of their ways, but in promoting the instruction 
and edification of saints. Have they many privileges to enjoy 7 These 
must be explained, and urged upon their attention. Are they exposed 
to many temptations? Against these they must be cautioned, and 
warned, and guarded. Are they discouraged because of the way? 
To inspire them with confidence, the promises of grace and the con>- 
solations of the Gospel must be plainly and explicitly set before them. 
And as ApoUos * helped them much which had believed through grace,' 
so you must labor to urge on believers to seek higher attainments in 
personal holiness, that they may be filled with all the fulness of God. 

And remember it is imperative upon you to take heed to your teach- 
ing, no less than to yourselves. You should do it for your own sake. 
There is a weight of responsibility resting upon you, of which you 
cannot divest yourselves. Your own salvation, in common with that 
of your hearers, depends on your personal and ministerial fidelity. 
The apostle, after having charged Timothy to take heed to himself 
and the doctrine, adds, * for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself 
and them that hear thee.' You cannot neglect your ministerial duty 
without endangering your own salvation, and incurring the vengeance 
of Him who hath said, * If thou warn not the wicked, but he die in his 
sins, his blood will I require at thy heinds.' 

You should do it for the people's sake. While they supply you with 
carnal things, you are bound to minister to them spiritual things. In a 
subordinate sense, their interests are placed in your hands, and their 
destiny for eternity depends, in no inconsiderable degree, upon your 
conduct. You are over them in the Lord, you watch for their souls, 
and you may become the instruments of their salvation ; for ministers 
are prophetically denominated * saviors,' who should ' come upon 
Mount Zion, to judge the mount of £sau, and the kingdom shall be 
the Lord's.' 

You should do it for God's sake. You are stewards of the myste- 
ries of God. You are not only His offspring, but His professed, con- 



^ddrM io Timng MinUiiri. 301 

secrated and devoted servants. His vows are upon you. He has in- 
vested yoK with talents and qualifications for the work of the ministry ; 
and has committed unto you the word of reconciliation ; and^ gratitude 
to God for the honor He has put upon you, and fear lest you should 
incur His displeasure by the non-improvement or abuse of your talents, 
should excite you to take heed to your teaching* 

And you are bound to take heed to your doctrine for the sake of 
posienty. One generation passeth away, and another cometh ; and 
the habits, manners, and characters of tiie generation that cometh will 
hh formed by the generation that passeth away. And it is for you to 
g^re the tone to the next generation of Methodists, both of ministers 
and people : we commit to you this day a most sacred trust : you are 
the rising hope of that great body to which you are now most inti- 
mately, and, I trust, inviolably united. It remains with you to make 
known to the people of your charge the unadulterated doctrines of 
truth ; that the generation to come may know them, even the children 
which shall be bom, who shall arise and declare them to their children ; 
and thus religion shall descend like an hereditary patrimony from age 
to age. The fathers of our Israel are gone! gone the way whence 
they shall not return ; they have fulfilled their course, and have fallen 
asleep : a few only remain lingering in the vale of tears, who were per- 
sonally acquainted with the founder of Methodism ; and sOon all who had 
any knowledge of that venerable man will be no more seeii. But 
though the laborers are called to their reward, yet the fruit of their labor 
remains. Methodism in all the purity of its doctrine, and in the whole- 
someness of its discipline, still lives in the affections of thousands : in 
the early period of its existence it was * rocked by the winds and cradled 
in the storm ;' but though the peal of slander against it has been rung 
in the ears of the populace for more than half a century, yet it has held 
oh its course, and waxed stronger and, stronger ; and wh&e its children 
walk by the same rule, and mind the same thing, it will obtain a still 
firmer hold on the minds of the world's population, and find friends 
and advocates among generations yet unborn. : 

And now, brethren, I commend you to God. Go to your several 
spheres of action in His name ; labor on at his command ; and for 
His sake sow beside all waters. Never forget that all your springs are 
in Him, and all your sufficiency is derived from Him. Depend en- 
tirely upon Him for success : and believe that He who has employed 
you wiU not sufiTer you to labor in vain, or spend your strength for 
nought. And though difficulties may await you, and stones of stum- 
bling and rocks of offence lie in your path ; though you may not have 
aU the encouragement you desire, nor all the success you anticipate ; 
yet, if Israel be not gathered, you shall be glorious in the eyes of the 
Lord; and when the chief Shepherd shall appear, you shall receive a 
crown of glory that fadeth not away. 
Vol. VI.— /ti/y, 1836. 26 



302 • BUhap M^lh^in^s Charge io the Clergy. 

For the Methodist Ma^rasine, and Quarterly Beview. 
BISHOP MILYAINE'S CHARGE TO THE CLERGY. 

A Charge to the Clergy of the Protestant Ejpiscifpal Church in the 
State of Ohio^ on the Preaching of Christ Crucified ; delivered 
before the Seventeenth Annual Convention of the Diocess at ChU^ 
licothe^ Sept, 5th^ 1834, by Chakles P. M'Ilvaine, D. D.» bishop 
of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of Ohio, 

Wb cannot easily express the pleasure with which we perused this 
production of Bishop M'Ilvaine. From the importance of the subject 
indicated by the title «nd the high reputation for piety and talent which 
the author enjoys, we expected much, and we are happy that our ex- 
pectations have been fully, realized* Several consideratioQS have 
induced us to think that we should perfoqn an acceptable service in 
spreading the outlines of this excellent Charge before the readers of 
the Methodist Magazine and Quarterly Review. 

1. We should cherish a grateful remembrance of our obligations to 
that Church from one of whose dignitaries it proceeds. It was in her bo- 
som that our own Wesley was trained up. He was bom within her pale, 
baptized into her faith, reared by her hand, educated at her academies, 
grounded in her sentiments, imbued with the principles of her homilies, 
and animated by the spirit of her martyrs. If the Church of England 
had no other claims to the gratitude of the world, this is sufficient to 
lay us under eternal obligation, that she gave birth to a man who was 
the instrument in the Divine hand of the most glorious revival of 
religion the world ever saw, since the days of the apostles — a revival 
which, bursting forth from Oxford, has spread into the four quarters of 
the globe, and, we think, is destined to spread more and more until it 
shall usher in the splendors of the millennial day. 

2. It will be gratifying, we doubt not, to the friends of our own Zion 
to see what is doing in other sections of the vineyard. The Christian 
cause is essentially one cause, as the spiritual Church is vitally 
one body. ' We are every one members one of another.' * If one 
member suffer all the members suffer with it, or if one member be 
honored all the members rejoice with it' It is for narrow-hearted 
bigotry to look with jealousy upon the advancement which any sister 
deoomination is making in the true interests of Christianity. But holy 
love, the true spirit of Jesus Christ, only asks, 'Is Christ preached 1' 
and in the affirmative it ever rejoices, * yea, and will rejoice.' Now 
this is our rejoicing in the present case. We find Christ preached not 
only iq name but in fisict, and in a way that we think calculated to dif* 
fuse a most salutary influence throughout the diocess of Ohio. We 
congratulate that portion of the Church on the possession of a diocesan 
who we believe will conscientiously use his authority and influence in 
the propagation of soundly evangelical principles. 

3. The subject of this Charge is one of pre-eminent importance, 
and delivered in a day when it is imperatively necessary that ' the trum- 
pet should give no uncertain sound.' The great confliction of religious 
.opinion which has been agitating, the world for the last few years, has 
struck out some singular forms of error, and presented them to the 
public in a manner peculiarly calculated to militate against < the truth 



Bishop ^*Ihain^» Charge to the Clergy. * 303 

ts it 18 in Jesus.' From the various antiquated species of heterodoxfy 
the Church seems to be, at present, in httle danger. They are too 
well understood to make any great advances among us, at least in their 
old forms. Christianity cannot now be divested of all appearance of 
spirituality and practical influence, and retain the respect of even the 
irreligious. The great enemy of mankind has therefore fallen upon 
new expedients. Great appearances of zeal, and self denial, and the as- 
sertion of high views of spiritual and practical piety, are blended with 
most dangerous defects in doctrine. In some eases the doctrine of 
self conversion is taught; in others altogether nugatory evidences of 
conversion are held forth and insisted on ; and these are followed by 
the insidious doctrine of the impossibility of falling* from grace— the 
impossibility of forfeiting a conversion which itself is no conversion ! 
Powerfiil inducement to rest in a state of nature, alienated from Christt 
and * without God in the world !' But that which strikes us as the most 
alarming feature of our times is the neglect of Christ in the pulpits. 
It is no uncommon thing to hear whole sermons in which the Savior is 
not mentioned. He seems to be utterly divorced from His own 
system* We seem to have a religion without a Savior ; a sacred altar, 
but no officiating Hi^ Priest ; a holy and awful Deity, but no atone* 
ment or Mediator. And when the awakened sinner feels the claims 
of the Divine law, and trembles At the view of infinite justice and 
purity, there is nothing placed upon which hope may rest — ^nothing be- 
tween him and absolute despair. Or it may be, that in the agony of 
his mind he is told to trust in the mercy of God and he will be for* 
given; and every argument that is used is drawn from reason and 
nature, to prove that < God is love,' and scarcely any thing is said, per- 
haps nothing but a mere transient allusion, to show the only true ground 
of a sinner's hope, and the only decided proof of God's mercy to 
fallen and guilty man, the gift of His Son for our redemption. The 
poor condemned sinner may be amused by some cunning theory or 
some rhapsodical expressions, in which there is no satisfactory exhi- 
bition of Christ as the Savior, until his agitation subsides, and his 
convictions in a great measure pass away. Then his conscience is 
lulled with false views, and he settles down in a belief of his own 
piety, when he has never found * redemption through the blood of 
Christ, even the forgiveness of his sins.' Or it may be that bis sym- 
pathies, having been powerfully excited, his stimulated imagination is 
suddenly struck by some vivid or impassioned expressions, and he, is 
thrown for a moment into a transport of emotion. He possibly 
calls it conversion, arid yet he ctin afterward give no satisfactory evi- 
detoe that his hope is based on Jesus Christ. Different classes of 
persons will exhibit different modifications of error, as they are cha^ 
racterized by variety in mental habits or constitution. Those whose 
characters are marked by an exuberance of feeling will fall into the 
latter error. Those whose reason and judgment preponderate, will fall 
into the former. But into which of the two they fall it matters but little ; 
they are both equally anti-christian and destructive. As we do not 
believe in a religion that has no Savior, neither do we believe in that 
conversion th^t'does liot recognize Christ in His atoning and redeem- 
ing charai»^ii| * for there is no other name given under heaven among 
men whereby we can be saved.' And that preaching, whose tendency 



304 BMap M^lhaine'$ Charge to the Clergy. 

la not to place Christ as the only ground of a sinner's hope, and then 
to keep Him in view as the only trust of the believer, begins with 
laying * another foundation than that which is laid' in the Gospel, and 
finishes by daubing the unsound edifice with untempered mortar. 
Thus its commencement is in error, and its termination in destruction. 
But it is time to take up the Charge, which has called forth our 
reflections. We find here a remedy for these defects. It is a Scrip- 
tural view of the duty of preaching * Christ and Him crucified.' 
To do justice perhaps to the intellect displayed in this production, we 
ipight be induced to quote other passages Uian those we shall select 
But our business is chiefly with the sentiments, and our estimate of 
their importance must determineour quotations. After having set forth 
the design of this address, and adverted to the variety of topics in the 
apostles' ministry, as well as the diversity of their talent, and the vari- 
ous characters of their hearers, the author observes, — 

* — ^there was one subject in which all hearers were taught to behold 
the beginning and the ending of religion, the whole consolation of a 
sinful world — ^the whole business, strength, and glory of a Christian 
minister. They made it their invariable principle to know nothing, to glo- 
ry in nothing among men but * Jesus Christ and Him crucified;' so that 
* every where, in the temple and in every house, they ceased not to teach 
and to preach Jesus Christ.' To set forth the glories ot His person and 
of His work — to teach Him in His various offices and benefits, in His 
humiliation and death — ^in His resurrection and exaltation — ^in His 
freeness of grace to receive and His fulness of grace to save the 
chief of sinners ; to persuade men to flee to Him as their refuge, to 
follow Him as their King, to rejoice in Him always as their everlasting 
portion, and always, and by all means, to glorify Him as Head over 
all things for His people ; this was their life's business unto which 
they had so separated themselves as to be virtually dead to whatever 
might hinder its promotion.' 

After having observed that without this * preaching of Christ,' all 
learning and wisdom and eloquence will be in vain, as it respects the 
salvation of souls, and that consequently all our prayers Efid talents 
should be concentrated upon this, object, our author proposes in the 
prosecution of the subject two purposes. The first is to show how 
near a minister may come to the appropriate design of his calling, and 
yet fall short of it The second, what it is really to ' preach Christ 
crucified.' Under the former of these heads we find some very judicious 
and important observations. For instance, — 

'It is possible to preach a great deal of important truth having an 
essential relation to die Gospel, — truth unmingled with any erroneous 
statement or principle. * * It may speak often of Christ and pathetically 
describe His agony and death,' and yet ' be so meagre and confused, 
so general and feeble as to all those vital doctrines which lead to Hioi, 
and spring from Him, and depend on Him, which lay the foundation 
and bind together the whole structure of Christian faith, as to be wholly 
unworthy the name of preaching Christ * * * * How often is 
the preaching abimi Christ confounded with preaching OAm<<-—fN:eaeh- 
ing from the imagination with preaching firom the heart. The mimster 
may thus deceive himself, and the great majority of hb people may 



Bi$hop M'Ikainea Charge io th€ Chtgy. M6 

Jm thus deeeived ; while fliome obscure, uakfttered duiciple» whose 
diaughts of truth have been taken undiluted from the welk of aalvatios, 
will be seimble of some painful deficiency ; and the anauous inquirer, 
thirsting for the Gospel, will listen and wait in vain to be taught what 
he must do to be saved. * * * * It is one thing to prove that there 
is no saJva^on but in Christ, and quite another to teach a soul, panting 
for mercy, how he is to win Christ and be (bund in Him/ 

Let these remarks stand as a reproof against all such preaching as 
leaves the Savior out of view. For if thus to preach Him fiiH short 
of the true character of Gospel sermons, what shall we saj of those 
who preach as if there was no Savior. Many ate the discourses which 
would draw forth the melancholy exclamation of a pious man after 
listening to such defective preaching — ' Alas ! they have taken away 
my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.' I remember 
myself a pious and simple-hearted Christian who dare never approach 
the mercy seat himself, without distinctly recognizing and acknow- 
ledging in his own heart the ground of his access, afler hearing a prayer 
of this nature, observe : * I had to keep saying to myself, for Christ's 
sake — ^for Christ's sake — or I could not have got along with it at all.' 
We have frequently heard prayers as well as sermons in which nothing 
could be discovered to identify then> as evangelical or Christian, ex- 
cept peiiiaps winding up with the Savior's name, and from the negligent 
manner it might be doubted whether ;even this was done from any 
heartfelt purpose, or from mere habit, or gracefully to round off the 
period. Now it is a question which is worthy of serious consideration. 
How far can that person be deeply conscious of his obUgations to 
Christ, of his dependence on the atonement ; — ^how far can he be 
aware of the only ground and term of our acceptance with God and 
access to the throne^ of grace, who does not purposely, feelingly, and 
constantly urge this plea at every approach to the mercy seat t* It is 
not in our view sufficient that the sentiment itself be in the person's 
creed. The question is, How far is it a living, operating principle in 
the heart ? If we are justified and saved only through Christ, if our 
prayers are to be offered in His name, and if answers are to be ex« 
pected for His sake alone, how far are we to expect to be heard, or 
answered, or saved, if there be not a constant feeling of our dependence 
on Christ, and such a feeling too as fills the heart and forces the lips 
to give it utterance 1 If from the fulness of the heart the mouth 
speaketb, it seems to us the heart cannot be very full of the love of 
Christ' our Savior, nor deeply sensible of its dependence on Him that 
does not in prayer make mention of His name, indispensable as. it 
is, to our obtaining an audience with Deity. Yet we would not set 
up any arbitrary standards of judgment, nor decide uncharits^ly in 
doubtfiil cases. We submit it as a question for consideration, and 
hope it wUi not be passed lightly over. 

* We hope we shall not be understood to signify that the name of the Savior 
must be repeated at the end of every sentence. This would become painful, if 
not profane. We mean that in every prayer there must be express mention of 
the groond on which we oome into the Divine presence. It ought to be made 
near the commencement, and repeated or alluded to in the progress, just as a heart 
hambly depending on Jesus Christ alone would naturally prompt, but always 
with * the spirit and the understanding also.'—with reverence and sincerity. 

26* 



SM Bi$h4)p M^Ihrnnt^s Charge io thi CUrgf. 

There is another feature in Ae aboTe extract not less importaat 
We mean the distinction between preaching from the imagiaatioii ani 
preaching from the heart. We are endowed by our Creator with vari- 
ous faculties, and each faculty has its appropriate functions. It is 
moreover a law of our nature that each fhculty responds to its kindred 
faculty. Mind affects mind, reason excites reason, imagination kindles 
imagination, and heart moves heart. Now as it is impossible for physi- 
cal power to control the intellectual movements, so also it is impos- 
sible for imagination to move the heart, or the pure emotions of the 
heart to stimulate to any great extent the imagination. We do not 
deny that there is a sympathy between all our faculties, and that stirring 
one part will spread the undulations over the entire surface. Yet the 
chief commotion will be at the first point of action. From thence 
the influence spreads out farther and farther until it dies away in its dis- 
tance from the part whose tranquillity was first disturbed. /Any person 
may have proof of what we say by observing the effects produced on 
his mind by the perusal of any author. He will not find his imagina- 
tion stimulated by reading Locke on the Understanding, or Butler's 
Analogy; nor his reason and judgment improved by novelists and 
dramatists : nor his heart and conscience awakened by Blair's Ser- 
mons, nor his devotional feelings enkindled by Moore's Sacred Melo- 
dies, beautiful as they are. But this is the very reason they do not 
afiect us ; they strike us as the work of the imagination, and there is 
about them too much evidence of effort. His figures glitter and 
sparkle like the moon beams among icicles, but there is no heat in 
thein. On the contrary, read the hymns of the Wesleys, and though 
the illustration's are often admirable and poetic in the highest degree, 
yet they are evidently the breathings of the heart ; and therefore 
they reach ^ the heart* Hence some splendid sermons produce 
no moral efiect The effort is too apparent. There is more p^s 
bestowed upon the language and imagery than upon the thoughts or 
tendency. ^ 

* Those who are too fond of embellishing their sennons, who study the Ian- 
^uagre more than the thoughts, and manner more than maitter, would do well to 
consult more carefully the principles of sound criticism. In Kames* Elements 
we find the following judicious remarks, chap, xviii, sect. 2. * The language 
ought to correspond to the subject. Heroic actions or sentiments require eleva- 
tedlanguage ; tender sentiments ought to be expressed in words soft and flowing ; 
and plain language void of ornament is adapted to subjects grave and didactic. — 
Language may be considered as the dress of thought ; and where the one is not 
suited to the other we are sensible of incongruity, in the same manner as where 
ft judge is dressed like a fop, or a peasanjt like a man of quality.' Again chap» 
x« * A serious and important subject admits not much ornament ; nor a subject 
that of itself is extremely beautinil ; and a subject that fills the mind with its lof- 
tiness and grandeur appears best in a dress altogether plain/ It may be laid 
down as a good general rule, that whene-ver, excepting in poetry and works pro* 
fesscdly of imagination, the mind is more struck with the words than with the 
thought, there is a deviation from nature and from sound judgment. The auxi> 
liary then takes place of the principal. For this reason those, generally speak* 
ing, are the most indifferent preachers who call forth the observations — What a 
flow of language I Whai charming figures I Such preachers generally entertain 
their hearers with pretty words and sparklin|r images, .instead of feeding then 
with knowledge and understanding. It is' like setting a hungry man down to 
a dish of syllabub; it may perhaps gratify his palale, but it yields no nourish- 
ment. 



M'tttaku^M Chmrgt to the Ckrgg. ' 907 

* Like qoiokvilver, their rhetoric th»T diipUy« 
Shinep as it runs, but grasp'd at, sliiMi away.' 

Observe) this does not affect the amount of pre(>aration in a sermony 

tiut die lekd. The spirit in which a sermon is studied, and the object 

the preacher has in view, will generally b Apparent, and the effect prtH 

duced will be in accordance. The more a sermon is studied the better, 

provided it be in the right way. Of Mr. Wesley it is said, when he 

stodJed he succeeded ; if otherwise, he failed. Few studied their ier- 

mons more than the celebrated Massillon, and yet he produced great 

effect. The observation of Louis the Fourteenth after hearing him 

preach at Versailles is familiar to all— ^ Father, I have heard many fine 

orators in my chapel, and have been very much pleased with them ; 

tmt as f<M' you, always^ when I have heard you, I have been very much 

displeased with myself.' Others prepared their sermons with the head 

only, Massillon prepared his with the heart. 

The same distinction accounts for the fact which at first yiew ap« 
pears not a little perplexing. Many preachers who are most successful 
in producing emotions, are not always most successful in producing 
convictions. We have sometimes seen a congregation wrougirt up into 
a high state of excitement by strong efforts of eloquence or by graphic 
descriptions, and when the commotion has subsided, no sound awaken- 
ings,and little spiritual edification have followed. And we have also seen 
the sound, but plain, logical, and didactic preacher produce strong and 
permanent impression, that has resulted in the awakening of the guilty 
and the solid benefit of the pious. How is it to be explained? The elo* 
quence of the one, vivid and impassioned as it was, came only from 
the imagination; the reasoning of the other came from a heart set 
earnestly upon the accomplishment of an object, which it pursues 
according to the natural beat of the mind. Hence the one fires the 
imagination and enkindles a sort of sensibility, the other reaches the 
iKsart, and moulds the consciences and principles and purposes of his 
auditory. Thus, whether the sermon be logical or imaginative, cool 
or impassioned, didactic or hortatory, doctrinal or practical, still it must 
come from the heart in order to reach the heart. It is not so much the 
intellectual character of a discourse that determines the point. This 
will be according to the natural habit of the preacher's mind. The 
abb^ Maury in his Treatise on Pulpit Eloquence justly observes, < that to 
arrive at the sublime,' (and true sublimity in a discourse is that point 
which effects the design of the orator,) * it is, in fact, less necessary to 
elevate his imagination than to be deeply impressed with his subject.' 
It is a well-known adage, * If you wish me to weep, it is first necessary 
that you weep yourself.' Or in other words, if you make another feel 
the importance of a subject, it is first necessary that you feel it 

But there may be another reason why some very feeling preachers 
do not produce more spiritual effect : a want of bringing the Savior 
into view at the right juncture or in the right way. We may dwell, for 
instance, upon His sufferings, and yet do it in siy^h a manner as not to 
leave any distinct impression on the hearer tliat he is particularly 
interested in them. We may tf eat on the beauty of piety, and yet not 
show how it is obtained through Jesus Christ. We may depict from 
imagination the joys of heaven, and still embody no essential Gospel 
principles. A preacher who has very quick sensibilities, a pathetic 



808 BMap M^Ihmn^i Oiarg^ io ike Chrgy. 

yoice» a lively iiiuigiii8tion« and energy in dellTeryt may play finely 
upon the feelings of his auditory : every chord he touches may vibrate, 
and the sighs and even groans of his hearers may ' discourse swe^ , 
music in Us ears*' and yeti will venture to say that unless he bring 
Christ into view and exhillt his relation to the whole, little spiritual 
effect will ensue. God will not honor a ministry that does not * honor 
the Son even as it honors the Father.' But how great the pity that 
such powers should be lost. For it is a blessed and holy art to rouse 
the sensibilities of a whole congregation ; to stir the very depths of 
the soul, and bring all its feelings into play. And then to turn the full 
current of the excited emotions upon the 'cross; to set Christ fully 
before die people, saying to the Christian, Behold the seal of your 
mercies, the centre of your hopes : and to the sinner, ^ Behold the Lamb 
of God who taketh away the sins of the world,' and so to press home 
the subject that one cries out, ^ My Lord and my God,' and the other 
exclaims, ' O ! that I knew where I might find Him ;' — this indeed is an 
art beyond all others, and to acquire it, heart, soul, intellect, should be 
ever on the stretch. 

But to return to the Charge— we find some very useful and im- 
portant hints in the next paragraph, on preaching the law, without 
showuig the relation which Chnst sustains to it, and placing Uie sinner 
in a state of hopeless condemnation without exhibiting the Savior as a 
refuge, and faith in Him as the medium of his reconciliation to God. 
Such preaching exhibits duty, but it does not bring into view the only 
means of performing duty, the influences of the Spirit received by faith 
in the Son of God. The law then instead of being our ^ schoolmaster 
to bring us to Christ,' is only a law of condemnation or a mere system 
of morality. 

We commend also to Ae attenticm of our readers the following 
passage from page 8 :— 

< A minister, in addition to the features already described, may inakeTa 
great use in almost every discourse of the nwne of the Redeemer, andoo* 
casionally His person or office may be presented with some appropriate 
prominence, and taught with unexceptionable distinctness ; and yet it may 
be only when the text, according to plain rhetorical propriety, demands 
tiiis treatment that Christ is thus set forth ; and the minister may not very 
frequently select such-texts as Irould thus constrain him. Passing from 
one subject to another, their succession may bring him in course to some- 
thing involving of necessity a concentrated attention to the Savior, in 
some of the great bearings of his work ; and.then he may be sufficiently 
explicit and correct; while the spiritually mhided hearer, attending 
upon the whole train of his preaching, will look in vain for such a 
graceful bending of every discourse toward ** the Author and Finisher 
of our faith ;" such a skilful interweaving of all other legitimate topics 
with those cardinal truths that centre in the cross, as will show at once, 
however remote the subject from the centre of the Gospel system, 
that it obeys the attraction and shines in the light of Christ. There 
is no such habitual passing to and fro between the ruin of man by sin, 
and his remedy by die Savior ; between the covenant written on stone 
and working death, and the covenant of grace, written on the heart and 
working life, as that whatever the preacher teaches shall have left on 



Biilu^ M^Jhmn^ Charge io Ae CU^gp 809 

it die sign of the cross, and the whole tenor of his w(»fk shall pro* 
clMin tluit for him to preach i$ Chri»t** 

Having thus disposed of the negative part, and shown clearly what 
is not preaching Christ, our author now proceeds to show ipore direcHy 
what is. On Ma part of the subject we find the follovdng spirited and 
judicious remarks : — 

'The Gospel is a iystem of trudi and duty ; its parts are allharmonioas 
and motually relevant and dependent. It has a centre, luminous, glo* 
rioaa, alt-controlling, to which all the parts around refer for the liglrt in 
which they are revealed, and the harmony of their every bearing. You 
can neither illustrate this system till you have shown its central power 
and li^t, nor fully describe its centre without exhibiting the various 
rehktions and dependencies of its surrounding system. The centre is 
Christ All lines meet in Him— all light and life come from Him— 
all truth is dark till He is risen upon the scene* Lesser, lights are 
only to rule the night It is for the sun to rule the day. 

' Now what is &e best mode of exhibiting this woqderful arrange* 
ment of grace, so that he who runs may read ? Where will you begin t 
At the outskirts of the system, taking up first its remoter elements, 
aiid reasoning on from one relation to another, till you get to Chrbt T 
To do this cleariy, you must give it the time of many dueourses* la 
some circumstances and after a more direct method has been well en- 
ployed, it may be well. Bu| supposing a people ignorant in a great 
measure of the first fU'inciples of the Gospel, how can you keep them 
waitmg so long in the dark? They have come to see the King— -and 
however important may seem to you their tardy introduction, every 
thing seems to them impertinent, till they have been admitted to His 
presence. Tou find your hearer ais a benighted traveller, afraid to catk^ 
timie his way, lest there be a precipice at his feet You may present 
him with a chart of his road, but bow will it help him as long as he 
cannot see ? He waits the sunrise.^ One ray from the sun will serve 
htm better than a thousand maps to be read in the dark. Then, but 
not till then, will a chart of the country be important 

* Astronomers, in teaching the doctrine of the solar system, begin 
with. the sun. They proceed directly to tell what it is, and what it 
does. This is the first thing to be understood. , Nothing in the sci- 
ence can be explained, till this is explained. Let the teacher of the 
Gospel system imitate the example. So I perceive the apostles began. 
In their preaching, I behold no gradual ceremonious approach from a 
great distance, like the parallels of a siege, to the one object of their 
ministry. There was one personage whom it was the immediate busi- 
ness of their apostleship to introduce to sinners — ^' Jesus of Nazareth^ 
the ofUy-begotten Son of Gody fuU of grace and truth.^* There was 
oojB Capital event in His history, which it was their immediate business 
to make known to every creature-^ Je«t(« cruct^ed c» a propitiation for 
the sin of the wholeworld. To these, fheir ministry immediately leaped. 
Here they always broke ground first and set up their tower of attack. 
Just at the ppint, where their enemies, in malignant triumph, supposed 
the Gospel had died, with the cross of its entombed founder for its 
only memorial, his disciples, in the triumph of faith, and lifting up 
thiit cross for a banner, made their beginning* Just that which laid 



810 Skhcp M'lh€tbu'8 Chmrg^ U^Ou Clergy, 

the stumbiiog block to the Jew and seemed radi foolishness to the 
Greeky they adopted as the head and front of their preaching ; ad- 
vancing boldly upon both Jew and Greek* like David with his single 
stone against the contemptuous giant of Gath ; glorying in nothing, 
determined to use nothing, ** safe Jesus Christ and Him cruoified." 
Thus saith St. Paid : ** I deliver unto you first of all that which also I 
received, how that Christ died for our isins according to the Scriptures." 
As Moses lifted up ttie serpent in the wilderness, did they at once Uft up 
Christ on the cross, as an ensign to the people. They could not spare 
time to be rooting out prejudices, and gradually preparing the minds 
of the unbelieving Jews and Gentiles for the great subject of Christ's 
atonement They knew no way of removing darkness so sure as that 
Of introducing the sun ; no way of subduing the' enmity of the heart 
to thjs Gospel so short as that of making men acquainted with the very 
essence of the Gospel. Human device would have said to St Paul, 
*^ Make use of your philosophy for an introducticm to your iheolog^-^ 
call science to your aid--show the fitness of things— impress your 
audience with a respectfiil idea of your attainments in the wisdom of 
the schools ; aim at the nerve of Desiosthenes*-*put on the golden 
robes of Cicero— speak of your Master in His manhood, in His miracles, 
benevolence, and piety ; compare His precepts with those of heathen 
sages ; but cast a veil over His ignominious death, and the humiliating 
plan of salvation through faith in His suffering, till the public mind 
i^all be somewhat inured to the less offensive features of His religion." 
«' No," said St. Paul, ^ lest the cross of Christ shoukL be made of 
none effect" There was a declaration of the Master which an aposde 
could not misunderstand :'**/, if I be lifted i^, vfiUdraw edl men unto 
me." In dus they read the secret of their success. Lifted up on 
the cross by His enemies. He had been already. Lifted up in the 
sight of all people. He was now to be by the ministry of the word. 
Their principle was, '* God giveth the increase," and ^* hath chosen the 
foolish things .<^ the worid to confound the wise, and the weak things 
of the world to confound the things that are mighty," '* that no flesb-* 
(that neither preachernor convert) should glory in His presence," but 
that all may feel that it is '* Christ Jesus who, of God, is made ^unto 
them wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption." ' 

Thus our author having brought Christ into view, insists eloquently 
upon the exhibition of His ofiices and character in all their richness and 
variety, with all distinctness and constancy. < The Sun,' he says, * is 
risen ; now see that it remains unclouded, always in full view from the 
remotest circle of your hearers, so that tiie weakest and lowest eye 
may see. Now you must keep up attention to this superior object by 
telling your people all that the Scriptures tell you about Christ Tour 
business is that they ,<* may know Chriet and be found in jEKm." ' In 
order to this, he insists on the necessity, of setting Him forth in His 
mediation and atonement ; as our Prophet, Priest, and King, in His 
death, resurrection, ascension, and intercession — as the * Head over all 
things to His Church,' and to declare not only the love, but * the wrath 
of the Lamb.' But we cannot follow at length these remarks, excel- 
lent as they are. We pass on to others. 

Bishop M'llvaine does not lose sight of the fact that there are many 
important doctrines more dr less remotely connected wilb the one great 



JSbhap M^U9miu?$ Charge to the Clergy. 811 

fiMtte, fftii^ riqtitre the preacher's fiudifol exhibition* But M these 

are to be so held forth as still to point to the leading object Do we 

for instance preach on the Divine character ? Iiet it be so as to show 

^at the simic^ caimot stand accepted with such a Being without a 

Me&tor. Do we preach on the fain Let us still reniind our hearers 

of the great Deliverer* Do we treat on the resurrection of the' dead? 

Let 09 bring into view ' the first fruits of them that riept,' and our 

resurrection seemed by His, and Hk resurrection as sealing the truth 

of Ckris^amty and ensuring the salvation of all them that believe in 

sod obey Him. Do we warn sinners to turn to God, and urge the 

pious to perseverance in duty ? Let us beseech them for Christ's sake, 

drawing our arguments and motives and encouragements from Him. 

Thas of every other. For we have not learned the art of preaching 

Christ, until we can i^oW His connection with every part of the Gospel 

system, and reduce all to practical purposes. 

On preaching the law, we find some remariu bearing a strong re- 
semblance to Mr. Wesley's on preaching Christ, and which the reader 
if he is inclined may see in his works, voL vi, pp. 555<-569 ; and in his 
sermon on ^ The law established through faidi,' in which he insists on 
preaching the law in all its parts, in order to lead the sinner to see and 
feel his need of a Savior, and take refuge in' the atoning blood. We 
mast make this distinction however : Mr. Wesley was opposing one 
extreme, Bishop M'Hvaine the opposite. Making allowance for 
this, their views are identical. 

The Charge also sets forth the necessity of * exhibiting the Holy 
Ghost, and its agency, in spiritual regenerationt the sanctifier and com- 
forter ; the autbor and preS^erver of spiritual life ; by whom alone we 
are bom again and daily renewed in the spirit of pur minds— ^the spirit 
of all prayer, wisdom, and holiness ; without whom we are as little able 
to will as to do of God's good pleasure.' If however we have any 
fault to find, it is here. We shouhl like to have seen the witness of 
the Spirit. more fully insisted on. It is also necessary to illustrate 
with great clearness, that personal act of appropriating faith, by which 
the law-condemned and conscience-stricken sinner lays hold of the 
merits- of Jesus Christ, reposes with confidence on the efficacy of the 
atonement, and feels its virtue in the forgiveness of his sins, and re- 
generation of his heart. But as the discourse is otherwise so clear in 
exhibiting the method of salvation, we would beUeve that this omission 
was rather accidental than from design. Indeed it is umreascmable to 
expect every thing in one discourse. 

There is another passage we cannot deny ourselves the satisfaction 
of placing before* our readers :— 

* Before leaving this all-important subject, it is well to give a brief 
attention to the inquiry, To what extent toe are b0md to introduce the 
way of salvation through Christ into every discoursi ? Some would 
answer that no sermon is truly evangelical, unless it contain a plain 
exhibition of what a sinner must do to be saved. But were it our duty 
so to order our ministry that, in evety sermon, the way of salvation 
should be introduced ; not by force, but naturally, and by legitimate 
connection with the main subject; not merely in a few sentences, too 
general to be understood by the ignorant, and too common-place to 
arrest the attention of any, but in a manner adapted to enlighten the 



311 Biihop M^Ihaint^$ Charge to iht CUrffj. 



mind and affect the heart ; then the preacher would be alilays confined 
to one neighborhood of subjects, and numerous sid>ordinate ones that 
are ** profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in 
righteousness,'' must be almost excluded or receive at best a very 
limited, occasional, and unsatisfactory consideration. Such is not the 
lesson obtained from the Scriptures/ Christ is continually exhibited 
in the Old Testament annals. They contain the history ef His Chorch 
as waiting and looking for His appearing. Christ is preached in the 
whole system of the Mosaic institutions, which were but a shadow of 
the good things to be found in Him* The tabernacle, with its ark and 
mercy seat ; its altars and furniture ) its offerings and <laily service-^ 
the priesthood, the pillar of clouil, the manna, Uie rock and the cities 
of refuge — ^all speak of Christ* ** To Him give all the prophets wit- 
ness." ** The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy."^ How 
entirely every page of the New Testament is pervaded with the same, 
I need not say. But we do not see, in the New Testament or in the 
Old, such a confinement to the vicinity of the cross, that no distinct 
subject is relinquished, till it has led to some distinct exhibition of the 
way of salvation by faith in Jesus Christ. Every thing has a bearing 
that way, but does not fail directiy into that line. Its course is bent, 
like the orbit of a planet, by the attraction of that cen^e ; sa that 
though it may never be turned direeUy, it is always inclined toward 
the latter, and rendering continual homage to its supremacy. The in- 
spired writers with one common centre, occupied a range of great extent 
and variety, while at every point they could receive light from the cross, 
and say, *^ Behold the Lamb of God." ' 

This Charge furnishes an excellent illustration of the section in our 
Discipline, on the preaching of Christ : — 

* Q^e»U 1. What is the best general method of preaching? 
^JbMW. 1. To convince : 2. To offer Christ : 3. Touuivlte : 4. To 

build up : and to do this in some n;)easure in every sermon. 

* QiuaL 2. What is the most effectual way of preaching Christ ? 

* Answ. The most effectual way of preaching Christ, is to preach 
Him in all His offices ; and to declare His law, as well as His Gospel, 
both to believers and unbelievers. Let us strongly and closely insist 
upon inward and outward holiness in all its branches.' 

The concluding paragraph contains some reqiarkson a subject which 
we think seriously demands the attention of the Christian Church. 
We are not aware that they are particularly appropriate to our own deno- 
mination ; nor do we believe that the author had us in his mind in making 
them. Yet it is possible that some individuals ataiong us may be cul- 
pable. Indeed there is liability to error in this way wherever the 
necessity of religious emotion is felt and inculcated. But the error 
should be guarded against It consists in human efforte to produce 
excitement; the adoption. of trick md stratagem purely to create 
feeling. By various UtUe nameless buffooneries and mountebank 
manoeuvres the imaginations and sympathies of a congregation, at 
least of the ignorant and undiscerning part, may be wrought up to a 
high pitch, and tumult and distraction follow. The result is that the 
intelligent are disgusted and the ignorant deluded. Christianity ac- 
knowledges none of this factitious aid. It approaches us only with 



JUii^p Jlff^ifaoMe't Clmrg^ io ik§^ Cbr^. 313 



hskf^ Gospel mewH, wmL tUeie are enimatljr aim^e and efficfent. 
Wilh the law to eooTkice of mf and awaken the conscienGe ; with a 
Savk»^ proQure fMordon and peace ; and with a Holy Spirit to renew 
and sen the Iwart ; it asks nodiing ci man but a clear, faithfiri , power- 
ful exhilMtioQ of its truths, and then the combined influence of unitedt 
agcmixijig, belieWs^ prayer. The more of these the better. But it 
waste 00 human and unauthorized contrivances. It does its work beltw 
witfaoat them. If theyhad been needful* we should have been told so 
ill the Book. But there we find nothing of it. It was by * the fool* 
isboaas of preaching,' the apostles expected to save souls ;. and then 
tbey exhorted the disciples to * pray always with all prayer and sup- 
plication in the spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance 
and 8up[^cation for all saints ; and for me, that utterance may be given 
unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly to make known the mystery 
of the Grospel.' Such was the model of our own Wesley. Powerful 
excitement, it is true, attended his ministry, but it was always produced 
by authorized means — * the word of God and prayer.' There was no 
spiritual jugglery about him. Neman was more opposed than he to 
the adoption of unauthorized and unscriptural expedients. He knew 
well the difference between the religion of the imagination* and that of 
the heart, and was well aware that human inventions may create the 
one but never can produce the other — may * compass us about with 
sparks of our own kindling,' but cannot kindle the true fire of the 
sanctuary. In fact every means to produce fictitiousK^xcitement mili* 
tates against genuine emotion just as a counterfeit injures a reality. 
He that mistakes the excitement of the imagination for the religion of 
the heart, is apt to be satisfied with a spurious substitute instead of 
seeking the soul*saving power. The author of the Natural History 
of Enthusiasm has some good thoughts upon this subject — *^The religion 
of the heart may be supplanted by a religion of the imagination, just 
in the same way that the social affections are often dislodged by fac- 
titious sensibilities. Every one knows that an artificial excitement of 
all the kind and tender emotions of our nature may take place through 
the medium of tbe imagination. Hence the power of poetry and the 
drama. But every one must also know that these feelings, however 
vivid, and seemingly pure and salutary they may be, and however 
nearly they may resemble the genuine workings of the soul, are so far 
from producing the same softening effect upon the character, that they 
tend rather to indurate the heart. ***** A process of per- 
version and of induration precisely similar may have place also among 
the religious emotions : for the laws of human nature are uniform, 
whatever may be die ioomediate cause which puts them in action ; and 
a fictitious piety corrupts or petrifies the heart not less certainly th^ui ^ 
does a romantic sentimentality.' 

But we are detaining our readers too long from the more immediate 
subject of our remarks. 

^ Let us strive, my brethren,' says the bishop, * after a great in- 
crease of^faith, in the preaching of Christ crucified. Let us make no 
division of confidence between this Divine ordinance and others of 
human ** art and man's device." There be some who seem to hope 

* See his lettdrs to Geo. Bell, and his seiinon on * Kno winf Chriet after the fieah.* 
Vol. VL— Ju/y, 1836. 27 



S14 Bhhap JIf >i2iMi«we'# Charge U tU Qbrgy. 

for but fitde effect from the ]riun« fiudilii] pratehisf of die eiMifli ex* 
eept in proportion as it is raized up with certain artmcial expedients of 
lurresting attention and ezcitiog emotion. There is an ^p«tite f<Nr 
excitement and novelty in the mode of awakening and converting m- 
ners, which seems to be rapidly increasing in some quarters SC the 
Chmdi of Christ, as well in an insatiate thirst for more potent stiiAu- 
lants, as in the number of its subjects* It is lamentably discarding 
the simplicity of the Gospel, and substituting a kind of preaching, 
which, with a special pretence of faithfulness and much redundancy 
and painful irreverence in the use of Divine names, is sadly wadtiiigm 
Divine things and spirit ; laying almost exclusive stress upon a few 
disjointed members of Gospel truth, and producing most deformed ex- 
amples of Gospel efficacy. There is something too tame and sober 
in the old paths of inspired preachers, for the taste of some in these 
days. To teach as well as />reacA— to go the round of Christian 
truth, instead of being confined to one or two of its more striking 
parts, has become the *' strange work" of many. To excite the sen» 
sibilities by swollen representations, rather than to enlighten the 
conscience by sober and practical exposition of Scripture ; to produce 
effect by drawing lines of visible separation among the people, by 
bringing the incipient anxieties of tha heart into dangerous and unbe- 
coming publicity, and by the hurrying forward of those whose minds 
are yet unsettled and unexamined, to an open profession of religion 
and perhaps a forward lead in devotional exercises, has become the 
mournful characteristic of much of the ministry that is caUed evan- 
gelical. It may boast many converts ; but time will show that it 
boasts ** the lame, the halt, and the blind." It is but ano,ther road, 
though a very short one, to all formality, coldness, and i^iritual deatii. 
There is such a thing as a zealous formality — a stimulated coldness — 
an excited corpse. Be such reliances, as I have described, far firom 
you, my brethren I Be jealous of any measure that would divide your 
faith in \he efficacy of the simple preaching of Christ crucified, ac- 
companied *' with all prayer and suppHcation in the spirit." Seek your 
power f directly, entirely, in the influences of the Holy Ghost to^ awaken, 
convince, convert, and sanctify the sinner. Behold your means in 
whatever will contribute to the teaching and preaching of Jesus (Christ. 
Use such means with importunate waiting upon God for his Messing, 
and your ministry ^' shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, 
that bringeth forth his fruit in his season ; whose leaf also shall not 
wither, and whatsoever it doeth shall prosper." While continually 
laboring under the practical conviction that God only ^^giveth the 
increase ;" endeavor so to believe in his promises, as to feel the ani- 
pmting assurance, that God will give increase to the diligent applica- 
tion of that which He has chosen for His chief instrument in the 
conversion of sinners. Have faith in God ! Preach as betieving not 
only in the unspeakable importance of the , truth you deliver, but also 
in the power and faithfulness of your Master to make it mighty to the 
casting down of whatever opposes the Gospel in the hearts of your 
people. There is power in faith to remove mountains ! One of the 
first steps toward the promotion of your greater usefulness, is the 
prayer of the apostle : " Lord^ increase our faiih.^ May the Lord in 
his great love wherewith he loveth us, be pleased to pour out upon you 



Bi§hop JIf 'iboMie't Charge la Ae Chrgy. ' 316 

a sptiit of gptce and suppticattoiit that« your fidtk being slreBglkaQed 
aad yo«r zeal quickened to all diligeace and faithfulnees, many niay be 
added unto the Lord under your niinietfy, and '* adorn the doctiine of 
God oar Savior in all thiagi*" ' 

We now take leave of Bishop M'llvaine, bidding him God speed in his 
sacred calling and praying that the sentiments of the Episcopal Charge 
may be echoed * in demonstration of the Spirit and of power' from every 
pvApit in the diocess of Ohio. If the venerated Wesley were now 
aliVe would he not rejoice to see the Church he loved coming back to 
die spirit of her own articles, homilies, and liturgy ? He would see the 
spirit of her Hookers and Pearsons, her Leightons and Bevridges, her 
Barrows and Bnrkitts, so long lain in abeyance, breaking forth again in 
the nineteenth century, and a Richmond, a Cunningham, a Wilson, and 
others in England, joined by many kindred spirits in America, all 
' standing in the way' and * asking for the old paths' and teaching ^ the 
good way* wherein men should walk to * find rest for their souls.' Had 
this been the spirit of the English Church in Mr. Wesley's day, they 
never would have driven him out into the highways and hedges, and 
literally compelled him to form a distinct denomination to perpetuate 
the good he did. Yet who among us does not rejoice in this fkct t 
He was secretly led on by Him who makes * the wrath of man to praise 
Him.' Had it not been for this the goodly fabric of Methodism would 
never have come into being. But now that it has been reared, who 
does not see that it has been for the saving of the nations t By the 
energy of her character, by the organization of her ministry, by the 
diffusiveness and the purity of her zeal, by her own internal arrange- 
ments for the cultivation of personal piety and Christian experience, 
and the singleness of her purposes, she has spread out into the world, 
and sent a portion of her spirit to animate the formerly lifeless bodies 
of other denominations. How much religion was there in England 
when Wesley rose 1 Let the fact declare, that for preaching * justifi* 
cation by fhith in Christ alone,' (* articulus ipse stantis vel cadentis 
ecclesiee,') and the convictions which followed, he was driven from the 
Church ! And how much piety was there in the American Churches 
when Whitefield came overt Whitefield lit his torch at Wesley's 
altar, and bearing th^ flaming brand across the Atlantic, kindled the 
same fire in America that was already burning brightly in England. 
Then th^re arose the ' new lights,' as a term of reproach to indicate 
men of the new spirit, possessing the spirit that has now found its way in 
a good measure into all the Churches. We rejoice in it, we say again, 
and we doubt not that Wesley in heaven rejoices to see the difiusion 
of those principles which he spent his life in proclaiming. Meanwhile 
may the Church which he was the instrument of establishing ever be 
true to her own character. May her first principles never be aban* 
doned, may her hands never be weakened, may the fire never bum low 
upon her altars ; but with the same steadiness, devotedness, and single- 
ness of purpose may she go on to * spread Scriptural holiness all over 
the lands.' While we strive to keep up to the spirit of the age in all 
improvlable things, let us keep up our own spirit in all heavenly things, 
and if we are true to that, to our latest generations the language of our 
djiag founder shaU be ours, * The best of all is, God is with us.' 



«16 BUkep M'lhmne'i Charge l9 the Ckrgy. 

B^ore closing this artiele, mmy I be permitted to aidd a fWv words 
on another branch of this subject. It has appeared to us that tere aie 
two very prevalent errors in much of the preaching of the present day* 
First, our intellectual sermons are not always sufficiently pracdcaL^ 
Secondly, our practical sermons are not-always sufficiently intellectual. 

Many of the pYeachers who are characterized by deep research, and 
laborious thought, seem to take up the dogmas of their sects like party 
combatants, and their preaching is but an exhibition of theological 
gladiatorship. Or they select only such texts and subjects for the 
pulpit, as afford the greatest room for grand and magnificent display. 
One would be led to suppose, that their aim was not so much to adapt 
their subjects to the wants and edification of their hearers, as to the 
advantageous display of their own intellectual superiority. Yet is not 
this most absurd — and even humanly judged, most unbusiness like? 
What would be thought of a lawyer or a statesman, who, on rising Jo 
plead a cause, or urge the passage of a bill, instead of taking up the 
argument in a-common-sense and business manner, should only dwell 
on those points that afford the greatest scope, to display his im^inationt 
or show forth the brilliancy of his genius ? Suppose his design should 
be to exhibit his intellectual powers favorably to his auditory, rather 
than to substantiate his claims, and rather to entrance them with his 
eloquence, than to convince them by his arguments : his hearers 
indeed, might admire his talents, but they would not think highly (^ his 
efficiency. But, meanwhile, what would his clients or constituents 
say 1 They would prefer one half hour's plain, sound, earnest exhi- 
bition of their claims, to all his fine flourish, and deep-studied imbe- 
cility. The preacher's case is much the same. The object of the 
'Gospel ministry is to bring sinners to Christ, and then to build them 
up in Scriptural holiness ; and whenever this is not apparent through- 
out a discourse, when it is not the pervading spirit of the whole, when 
it strikes not upon the mind of the hearer as such, it is a mere perver- 
sion and profanation. It is splendid nonsense, or logical absurdity. 
What will Heaven think of one who is by profession a minister of 
reconciliation between God and man, an ambassador of God to a 
fallen world, who studies the entertainment of his hearers instead of 
their conversion and edification ? Whose design is, 

* To coart & ifrin, where he should woo a soul.'< 

This indeed is pitiful, judged by human rules ; but according to the 
word of God, it is worse than madness. Let the conduct of the apos- 
tles be ours also ; vWe preach not ourselv^, but Christ Jesus the 
Lord.' And let all oiir sermons say in spirit and purpose, * Now then 
we are ambassadors for Christ. As though. God did beseech you by 
us we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.' 

Neither are they to be es^cused who seem to think that the design 
to be useful exempts them from^ obligation to study. What ! shall 
one man study utility, less than another display? > Does it require 
less study, clearly, effectually, powerfully, to exhibit the purity and 
claims of the law, and the provisions of the Gospel, to convince, to 
awake, to instruct in all Christian doctrines and obligations, than merely 
to exhibit a little spice of human wit and ingenuity ? ^ Is the object less 
worthy and important t Certainly not ; nor shall we be excused for 



Mi$li»p M*Ihaint^s Charge io (he C^gy. 317 

bestowing lets study on it No mm has done all he can to preach 
Christ, and bring souls to God, iviio has not tasked his powers to ike 
very utmost ; and he who buries the talents Heaven has entrusted to 
him, or, wiach is the same thuiCf neglects to carry them out to their 
highest possible degree of pei&ction, must prepare to render up a 
fsiifiil aeconnt of his stewardship. What is the result of a great 
many of those negligent, uninteresting, canting or prosing sermons, 
witbditt taste or talent, and full of errors and inaccuracy, which issue 
fioffl the pulpit? Why, the hearers are disgusted with religion and 
driven from the churches. The whole appearance of Christianity in 
such a dress is so unlovely, so utterly repulsive, that it even requires 
no ordinary portion of grace in the truly pious to endure it. What 
mast it appear to those viho are not pious ! The intelligent and irreli- 
gious part of the community are thereby driven to those places where 
they find greater elegance, thou^ a want of sound views and practical 
utihty. And whose is the fiiolt ? Certainly our own, if it comes from 
our neglect of seeking proper qualifications for our business. Let us 
not content ourselves with saying that they run away froiti hearing the 
plain truths of the Gospel. It is perhaps not for preaching the truth, 
nor for strictly urging duty, that they abandon us. It is because we 
clothe the truth in a dress so slovenly and disgusting. We demand 
too much of persons who are not religious, when we expect them for 
the sake of truth Aey are not prepared to appreciate, to endure all the 
offensiveness ynik which it is possible to invest it. And how unrea- 
sonable it is to leave all the graces and attractiveness of the pulpit, to 
the cause of error or of heterodoxy, and act as if any thing was good 
enough for the truth and for practical purposes ! What churches this 
mode of preaching will fill, and which it will empty is very apparent ; 
and the, efl^t stares us in the face every where. Let us not be met 
wi& the stale and worn-out objection, that the apostles did not study 
their sermons. Before we bring this fact to justify indolence and sanc- 
tify our own follies, let us wait until we can substantiate our claims to 
their inspiration. 

In conclusion, we hope we shall not be charged with looking to hu- 
man applause in the pulpit preparations. This is not our design. — 
We only desire to see justice done to the cause of God, and of human 
souls. We wish always to see truth presented as it ought to be, in 
the clearest, fullest, strongest, and most effectual manner. And in 
order to do this, two thii^s are necessary, that, first of all, the heart 
be imbued with the spirit of piety, and then, that the whole strength of 
the intellect and all the resources of mind be expended upon our 
work, — ^the unction that cometh from above, and the full exertion of 
whatever talents Heaven may have given. In a word, let the errors 
we have described be avoided, and let whatever is excellent in the two 
classes of ministers be conjoined. Let the intellectual be always de- 
cidedly practical, and let the practical become more intellectual. We 
shall then see our churches filled with more intelligent hearers, and 
more of th^m will be converted. We shall then see an end of that 
invidious distinction which now so generally prevails between great 
preachers and useftU preachers. A man will no longer be looked on 
widi suspicion among the pious and simple-hearted, when he exhibits 
marks of thought and investigation in his sermons, as if he was turn- 

27* 



318 Tk0 Moral Infliunee of tlu Anc ArU. 

ing traitor to his sacred obligations. And tibe weakness and ibllies 
of others will not pass current for sure marks of simplicitj of purpose 
and purity of heart. We shall then hare no empty sound and frothy 
nonsense in the pulpit, on the one hand ; nor on the other, those tame 
and spiritless anodynes which convert our churches into dormitories, 
or which leave the minister to gather the evidences of his usefulness 
from empty benches. AH then will be * good to the use of edifying,* 
when every man employs his talents to the best advantage for holy and 
spiritual purposes* Then shall *• peace be within our walls and pros- 
perity within our palaces,' and the purposes of Heaven in bestowing a 
diversity of gifts and qualifications upon the Church, shall be fully 
manifest Then shall He be supremely glorified, * li^ho gave unto 
some, apostles ; and some, prophets ; and some, e^ngelists ; and 
some, pastors and teachers ; for the perfecting of the 'saints, for the 
work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ : till we all 
come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge 6f the S<hi of 
God, unto a perfect man, unto Uie measure of the stature of the ful- 
ness of Christ' J. HOLDICH. 

JfeuhYark, April 29, 1835. 

» 
» 

\ 



THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF THE FINE ARTS. \ 

A Lecture delivered before the Boston Weateyafi Lyceum. \ 

BT EDWARD OTHEMAN. 

The object of this lecture is not, of course, to notice the whole 
extent and variety of the moral influence of the fine arts, or of any one 
of them, for this would be impossible in the short space allotted for 
this exercise. Our design simply is to exhibit their claims, as a class 
of human pursuits, and a source of human enjoyment, to be either ex- 
tensively or partially patronized and cultivated. And this it is intended 
to do chiefly by showing that their native tendency is favorable to 
morality. 

The arts termed fine, polite or liberal, when spoken of abstractly or 
without relation to other arts, are painting, sculpture, and architecture ; 
but in the popular or common division of the arts, (which will be 
adopted in this lecture,) the fine arts consist of such as music, paint- 
ing, sculpture, rhetoric, gardening, architecture, engraving, and are dis- 
tinguished from the useful or mechanical arts by their respective 
objects. The object of the latter is to produce utility or profit, that of 
the former is to please, or to gratify the taste, by ejdiibiting whatever 
they can that is graceful, lovely, elegant* novel, wonderful or sublime. 
Absolute or relative beauty is a quality common to all their produc- 
tions, and it is by the power of their works to raise this emotion that 
we judge of the perfection of those works. Some of the fine arts are 
also useful ; still the most striking, the outward expression of their pro- 
ductions is ornamental. Such are architecture and gardening. 

By their moral influence, I mean that influence which they exert on 
the mind and heart, in favor both of individual and social morality ; 
not, of course, as producing convictions of duty, but as a means of 
cultivating those feelings and sentiments which deter firom vice and 






T%» Mmd Infiu€ne€ of ih» Fint JMs. 819 

|nompt to virtae. And here we speak of their legitiniale« unperverted 
iufluenee ; for the proper question with regard to any principle or pur- 
suit ish what is its nataral character and tendency ) Are the fine arta, 
then, in their nature, destructive or promotive of morality 1 We do 
not ask, what their actual influence is in any particular time or placjD, 
hecaijue they, like every thing else, may be abused by the passions 
and prejudices of men ; but, do they necessarily contain the elements 
of looral corruption 1 or are they not, when properly used, made direct 
and efficient aids of virtue ? are they not really, bright manifestations 
of man's noble powers — ^the embodying of his beau ideal of excellence 
^the means of attempting to operate favorably on the mmd, by the 
visible or audible expression of those ideas of perfection, the contem- 
plation of which tendd to render ourselves more perfect ? . We pretend 
not to say, that they are any thing more than aids to morality ; but we 
do contend that, other things being equal, where they are cultivated 
in 8 proper manner there will be a more elevated, refined, elegant 
state <^ society,— that the selfishness and narrowness oi human nature 
vili be removed, and the social principles and character more fiilly 
develq>ed. 

It is no small argument in favor of the propriety and importance of 
their cultivation by the religious part of tne community, ^ough they 
were merely innocent in their tendency, that they will always, doubt- 
less, exist ; and it is certainly wise and politic, that those who regard 
the moral interests of man should employ a machinery of so extensive 
power, capable of so varied application, for the welfare of society.-^ 
The belief that they will always be admired and pursued, is supported 
by the fact, that they are founded deeply in nature, in the nature €»f 
man, and of the external world. This fact appears by considering 
their relation to the mind, and their own character and history. And 
it might be a short, but comprehensive and true answer to our inqui- 
ries on this subject, that their moral tendency must be good, since they 
exist by the very constitution of nature herself, and hence, by the ap- 
pointment of Jehovah. But let this point be illustrated a little. Some 
of the fine arta are imitative, as painting and sculpture ; oUiers are 
the natural, spontaneous productions of man's powers, as music, poe- 
try, and orat(Nfy. Each of these classes sometimes partakes of botti 
characteristics, and sometimes one performs the office of the other* 
The three last named seem to owe their existence to a sort of impulse 
or inspiration in the mind, and to be the very language of some <^ 
man's dearest and noblest emotions and faculties. Fired with some 
high resolve, exulting in some joyous anticipation or accomplished 
hope, melted into exquisite tenderness by some fond affection, he pours 
out his soul in enchcmting music, enrapturing poesy, or entrancing 
eloquence. These seem to belong to human nature, as much as any 
instinct does to the lower animals. The organs of the human voice 
are exactly adapted to music and oratory, while the principles of mu- 
sic, wheUier vocal or instrumental, are absolutely fixed in the very na- 
ture of musical sounds. Of poetry the universe itself is full, at least 
to the eye of fancy ; and there are depths of feeling and of thought in 
nuin, all * unwritten poetry,' the source of that expressed either in his 
actions or his language. 
The propensity to imitation is common to man, and leads even now 



890 Th9 Mn^ InfimuM of ilu Fine Jlrii. 

the rude sons of the forest to carve on wood or stone some rough 
resemblance to the human form and face. The glassy surfigtee of the 
cahn lake, mirroring, in beauty, forest, field or viUage, either bunushed 
with tiie golden blaze of sunli^t, or softened into milder radiance by 
the silvery beams of the full moon, would suggest- a means of pictur- 
ing out, in a more durable form, all the charms of a landscape, as a 
memento of scenes and hours of friendship now far distant, or long 
passed away. The varied beauty of nature in the green velvet lawn, 
and the embroidered meadow^ the gently meandering river, and the 
roaring cataract, the grave-browed mountain, and the sleeping valley, 
no doubt gaVe rise to the art of gardening. The magnificent temples 
of nature, whose roof of thickly intertwining branches, and closely 
thatched leaves, is supported by strong and graceful columns of vari- 
ous forms, posi^ly furnished the first idea of architecture, and contri- 
buted, assuredly, to the perfection of the art 

That the fine arts are the legitimate result of the laws of mind, 
seems farther evident from their adaptation to the mental constitutioD, 
from the involuntary, spontaneous approbation shown them in all ages 
and lands, and by all classes of society. This universal adraintioB 
arises firom their appealing to a common principle of human natuore— 
taste— which, though differing in some of its applicatioiis, is essentially 
the same in all mankind. Taste is somewhat analogous to the love 
f^ nature, and serves the same end wi& respect to human productions, 
as the love of rwture does with respect to natural objects. They are 
aometiraes both (billed taste ; and it is a fact, so nearly are they aUied 
to each other, that by improving one of them we improve the other at 
the same time. The love of nature seems, indeed, to have been the 
origin of the fine arts, of those, at least, which are imitative. Both 
of these principles were, doubtless, imphmted within us for good pur- 
poses, and their final cause, whidi we cannot now consider, is as 
honorable to the Divine wisdom and goodness as serviceable to man. 

That department of the mind over which the fine arts peculiarly and 
immediately preside, is an important one, and is, in fact, that over 
which morality and religion exercise their greatest control. It is the 
sensitive part of our nature*— the passions, and emotions. And here 
we see the grand reason why their moral influence shouki be seriously 
considered, because they touch the springs of action; and why, 
thou^ founded in nature, their application and use i^ould be sacredly 
guarded, so as to prevent the pervereion of their original purpose. 

That they have great and extensive power over the mind, whether 
for good or for evil, appears probable from their nature and qualities, 
and certain from history and experience. Take a few instances of 
this power from observation. The power of music, poetry, and oratory 
is too obvious and too generally acknowledged to need illustration or 
argument. The corrupting power of painting, when employed for vi* 
cious purposes, is so great as to require the interference of legislative 
enactments, and of the civil authority for its removal, at least, from 
contact with the public eye. Painting and sculpCUre, as agents of 
superstition and false religion, have held extensive control over the 
mind in the systems of idolatry ; and the Divine prdbibition of this use 
of them by the second commandment is, at once, an evidence of the 
propensity of the human mind to cultivate these arts, and of the won- 



The JNbroi Injhenee «f the Fmt Jirti. t2 1 

I 

deiM power which they aro capable of wielding. Having the com- 
mon approbation of all classes, the fine arts can,. by taking advantage 
of the titnest by favoring s<Hne reigning prejudice or passion of die 
age, mould and ^rect the popular mass at will. The founders and 
ministers of a certain Church, noted for their knowledge of human na- 
ture, have availed themselves of all the powerful attractions of the arts 
in the construction, decoration, and service of their magnificent cathe- 
drals and other places of worship, to strengthen the attachment, and 
secure the veneration of its members for its doctrines and usages. And 
though the improper and extravagant use made of these arts in that 
Church may have brought them into a degree of disrepute and neglect 
by o<ber portions of Christendom, still should we not show more wis* 
domain retaining the good, While we reject the bad, and in making use 
of. the same lamul means to bind the heart to principles and practices 
which we consider pure and holy. The universal power which the fine 
arts have acquired over all men in civilized countries, is seen in the 
eagerness with which specimens of them are sought, either for the 
immediate grati&^ion of the taste, or for the embellishment of their 
dwellings as objects of fi-equent delight. Greece and Italy are only 
other names for all that is beautiful and perfect in works of art ; and 
it is interesting to observe the whole civilized world leaning toward 
ihem with intent gaze, and ardent desire, to behold their charms and 
cateh tiieir inspiration. The poet, the philosopher, the conqueror, the 
common traveller, seeks to obtam a fragment even of their architectii* 
ral columns, their marble statues, their sculptured monuments, not only 
as a sacred relic of their former i^ory, but also as a rare and exquisite 
specimen of unrivalled art« The desire and the practice, prevalent 
among all classes of society, of obtaining some appropriate and dura- 
ble memento of love and friendship, as a bust or a picture, is as strong 
a testimony to our sense of the power of the arts which produce tern, 
as it is to the tender and touching sentiment of our hearts toward the 
loved and the departed. 

Whatever possesses such a command over the hearts and actions of 
men, whatever seems destined to maintain its empire through all gene- 
rations, is certainly a proper subject for the scrutiny and guardianship 
of the Christian and the phikinthropist ; and if it do not contain any 
thing necessarily repugnant to molality, should be made, in the hands 
of reUgion, to subserve the high purposes of human happiness and 
improvement. 

The persons on whom the fine arts exert an influence consist of two 
eh»sed ; first, artists themselves ; and second, the admirers or observers 
of the arts. Though their influence is felt by both classes in com- 
mon, it must be greatest on those,' whether professors or connoisseurs, 
who are most conversant with them. All Ibat can be done at present, 
however, is to consider their influence as exerted on the general mind* 
Their moml influence is of two kinds, original, native or inherent* 
and relative or derived, sometimes distinctly felt, but generally felt ui 
union or combination. The relative influence flows from two sour- 
ces; one, the subject which they treat of or exhibit, the other, the 
faculty, passion or emotion which they are intended to excite* Somo 
of them admit of only one source of relative influence, e. g., garden- 
ing and aschileeture. These cannot, perhaps, be properly said to 



3i2 The Mm^ Jhjhmce ef the Fvu Arts. 

eadiibit different Bubjeets of conaideratUHh but they ean be made to 
raise various emotionsv as cbeerfulness or melancholy« gayetj or sobri- 
ety, tranquiility« confidence or terror, beauty or sublimity. In order 
to have a distinct idea of these two kinds of influence, let us take an 
example from some one of the fine arts iq which they both exist We 
wilt examine a painting of David, the founder of the modem French 
school of painting, which represents ' Cain meditating the death of 
AbeL' Cain is represented as large as life. He appears in the fore- 
ground, ^ing the beholder, and is the most conspicuous figure in the 
picture. He is sitting on a broken rock ; a green lawn is sfH-ead out 
from his feet before him, and behind him, on his right, waves a forest 
of luxuriant vegetation. In the distance, on a glade opening at his 
left, and stretching far aWay behind him, the pious Abel is kneeling 
reverently before a rude altar of stone, firom which the flame of his 
sacrifice is sending up a grateful perfume to Heaven* The oflended 
and indignant Cain is the very personification of malice and revenge. 
He is agitated with intolerable rage. Every muscle is swelled to per* 
feet distinctness. His erect, inflexible neck, his closely pressed lips, 
his wide-spread nostrils, his blood-shot eyeballs, his dark and wrinkled 
brow, are still more striking indications of the settled fury and purpose 
of his soul. His right leg slightly bent under him, resting on the toes ; 
his left one in its natural, upright position, but firmly planted ; his left 
hand, extended at the full length of the arm, clenching and pressing 
perpendicularly upon the ground an implement of hnsbandry, soon to 
become an instrument of death ; and his right hand bearing strongly 
upon his right thigh, strikingly represent him as in the act of springing 
from his seat to perpetrate his murderous design. Now who can look 
on that perfectly natural coloring, that accurate delineation of features 
and expression, that admirable perspective, every object, every part 
standing up from the canvass as though it were the Kying scene itself, 
without feeling an electric thrill of ddught Thb is the spoataneotis 
homage which taste pays to genius ; and is the effect produced by the 
fine design and painting of the picture, or by the original, inherent 
influence of this specimen of art. Then the subject which the painter 
has chosen is one of deep interest. We think of the causes at work, 
the chamcters displayed, and other circumstances exhibited in the 
scene, and thus this subject suggests considemtions calculated to pro- 
duce a good moral effect. Then, again, the picture is addressed to 
several emotions in the beholder, such as commiseration for the inno- 
cent victim of revenge, abhorrence of ihe crime, and ^sgust at the 
indulgence of a malevolent disposition* Now the aikptation of the 
picture to excite these emotions, and ih» subject exhibited in it, con- 
stitute the two sources of relative influence. It will be perceived from 
this example, that the latter influence must be, or may be made, &j 
greater than the former, since into the latter can be ^own all the 
incentives to vice or virtue, all the elements of moral purity ot cor- 
ruption. And in the use made of this influence lies the greatest dan- 
ger. Subjects and emotions are, indeed, the instrumeiits which both 
depraved and consecrated genius employs to efiect its purposes. Let 
the fine arts be used by suitable minds in a pr<^r way, and their 
power to bless mankind will be universally ackaowisdged. But wfaat- 
evernaaay be their iipplicati<»ii their inherent or native inftieBce remains 



Tk9 M$rul jfii/tneiietf of Ae Pine Art$. tM 

the aanle ki cinraeler, tlM>ogli not tlwajrs in ftvee, because it may be 

overpowered by the relative influence; and this chMM^ter, it will be 
shown* is good* Since, then, their relative inflaence is determined in 
its cWaeter by do fixed principles, but by the will of the artist, and 
of the age, and is open and manifest to the discernment of all, we 
will confiae ourselves in our future observations to the consideration 
and illustration of their native influence on individoal and social mo* 
rality* 

This influence, it must be confessed, is rather passive than active 
JO its results, tending to restrain and chasten the feelings atid passions, 
radier than to excite to immediate action. But this effect, if no other 
were produced, would not be of small importance in a worid where 
the Uirbulence of passion and irregular desires is so common and so 
ruinous to morals and happiness. This, however, is not the only 
efibct in every case. Eloquence or oratory, in its essential charac- 
teristics, is exciting to the active principles of our nature. And, in- 
deed, the more imperceptible influence alluded to above, will, in the 
end, powerfully aflPect our conduct, since thai generally partakes of the 
temper of our minds. 

The first c<msideratioQ which I will oflTer, to show that the native 
tendency .of the fine arts is good, is, that their object is consistent 
with, and promotive of morality. This object is, in general, to please ; 
in particular, to please by exciting the emotions of beauty and gran- 
deur or sublimity. Now if their tendency were to please by gratifying 
the corrupt passions, every virtuous mind would condemn them at 
once ; but they please because we are constituted by nature to be so 
affected by them ; they please, because they gratify our taste, a common 
faculty of mind, which controls us, almost instinctively, in many of 
the arrangements of life. They please in the same way as nature 
pleases, and with the same end in view, the happiness of man. There 
is something in the mind of man which fits him to receive delight 
ftom the elects of sense. Some of these objects are necessary to 
his subsistence ; still from these he receives a pleasure which, though 
from experience he finds it not absolutely requisite to his being, yet is 
an essential ingredient in his cup of happiness. Other objects seem 
not at all necessary to his existence, but are, nevertheless, some of the 
fullest sources of his enjoyment. These latter objects furnish that 
infinite diversity of charms, thronging upon his vision from the ever- 
varjing face of heaven and of earth. Whose soul swells not with 
rapture at sight of the glorious skyf the budding spring, the flower- 
ing summer, the fruitful autumn, the rudely majestic winter, sublime 
in storms, and beautiful in the glittering, sun-gemmed snow? To 
please, then^ seems to be a purpose not unworthy of, nor neglected by 
the Deity; and the efiect which this kind of pleasure has upon the 
mind, is a mark both of Divine wisdom and goodness. Perhaps, then« 
we may be justified in saying, that to please, provided the pleasure be 
not immoral in its tendencies, and especially if it tends to improve tike 
intellect and the heart, is a good object, and one that should be aimed 
at in our social intercourse. The mind, under the benignant influence 
of the charms of nature, is either softened or elevated, and is thus bet- 
ter prepared to attend to the lessons of religion, and, indeed, to be 
afleeted by the moral reflections wfakh come from every point of the 



ZU Tlu MorMl ifi/hefice of ike Ftue ArU. 

uiiiTerse. And the same effect do the beauties of the £ae arts produce 
on those who contemplate and admire them* 
T)iat Uie pleasure derived from the fine arts is moral in its character 

' and tendencies, is seen more clearly by considering the peculiar emo- 
tions of which it chiefly consbts, viz. beauty and sublimity. The 
moral effect of these emotions is always good* The expansion and 
compli^cenpe of mind caused by the sight of a beautiful object, the 
mental elevation and vigor produced by a sublime one, are very far 
removed from the low and grovelling dispositions of vice* Indeed, a 
vicipus man cannot have a full impression of the pure beauties of na* 
ture or of art. They will always be distorted or perverted to his gaze, 
and associated with images of sensual gratification* An artist^ in 
order to produce finished specimens of his art, is obliged, if he be a 
vicious man in general, to suspend the indulgence of his animal pro- 
pensities a while, and strive to assume a sobriety— « purity, suited to 
the nature of his profession. For the improvement of man's social, 
intellectual, and moral nature, God has seen fit to impress certain as- 
pects on natural objects, and to diffuse certain influences through the 
universe, apart from a recorded revelation, which he has adapted man 
to perceive, and which insinuate themselves, in his happy hours, in an 
agreeable, undefinable manner, into his heart, and insensibly mould 
his character. Among those aspects and influences, as the most stri- 
king appearances of nature, and the most congenial and successful in 
their operation upon the mind, are beauty and sublimity ; and these, so 
important and extensive is the power of the fine arts. He has also 
imprinted upon ihem^ with the same far-seeing and benevolent inten- 
tion. The powerful agency of the grand and lovely local scenery of 
a country, in soothing, chastening, and elevating the mind, and in form- 
ing die peculiar genius and charficter of the individual and the nation, 
has always been acknowledged. These qualities in the fine arts would 
produce the same effect, to the same extent, were they as freely and 
as frequently open to public inspection. We are naturally led from 
the consideration of these qualities, whether in nature or in art, to reve- 

. rence the Infinite Intelligence who has enabled man to produce the 
one and imitate the other, and who has by them shown himself pos« 
sessed of attributes and perfections which render him an object su- 
premely worthy of man's adoring contemplation* 

2. And by these thoughts we are led to a second consideration, 
showing that the inherent or native influence of the fine arts is good, 
viz., the susceptibility of the hu|>an mind to imbibe the spirit of the 
scenes, and circumstances by which it is employed and interested. It 
is a common saying, and true to some extent, Uiat man is the creature 
of circumstances ; i. e., that his character is formed by tbe circum- 
stances attending his being. How far his character is affected by his 
condition, by the objects and events continually occurring under his 
notice, is a profound problem, and difficult of solution. It is unques- 
tionable, however, that tbe scenes through which b^ passes, and espe- 
cially those of great importance, do leave their mark upon him. — 
These scenes form the character or the spirit of the age — of the nation ; 
and mpst of the public, and much of the private character of individu- 
als. So climate and localities seem to affect the physical and intel- 
lectual constitution of man, in individual cases, and especially in sue- 



The Mwrol Influence of the Fine Jtris. 325 

eesisive genenttioticr. Thus men living in moderately rigorous climates, 
when compared -with the inhabitants of countries of higher and more 
uniform temperature, are, other things being equal, generally distin- 
guished for stem, firm, calculating purpose, for unconquerable perse- 
verance and industry, for kind and hospitable, but rather rigid and 
guarded manners ; while the directer rays of the sun, and milder bree-. 
2es, produce more yielding dispositions, more ardent temperaments, 
more unsuspecting, fuU-souled generosity of feeling and of manners, 
hutf at the same, time, more rash, impetuous daring. The indolent, 
ittxurious'efTeminacy of the Italians, the contemplative, phlegmatic labo- 
riousness of the Germans, the gay, busy, intelligent sprightliness of 
the French, the proud, enthusiastic ardor of the Spanish, the quick- 
sighted, high-spirited, interested shrewdness of the EngUsh, the simple- 
hearted, enterprising, independent spirit of the Americans, are national 
characteristics, the result of the origin, age, government, religion, edu- 
cation, climate, local scenery, &c, of the respective nations. The 
polished manners, the lofly bearing, the extensive aims and efforts of 
worldly ambition, generally found in persons of high rank, are not so 
much attributable to any innate mental superiority as to the circumstan- 
ces of their breeding. Minds of as noble powers, as fine sensibility, 
may always be found in the humbler walks of life ; but, owing to the 
want of culture, the force of example, and the less stirring scenes of 
daily contact, they are more circumscribed in their prospect, and con- 
cealed under a more uncouth and forbidding exterior. Ten thousand 
occurrences in the natural and moral world are constantly making their 
impression upon out intellect or our heart. It is the part of wisdom 
and of virtue to consider well these occurrences and their effects, and 
to court the occasions of good and gentle influence, repelling, most 
watchfully, the insidious, enervating tendency of vicious scenes and 
objects. 

Now it is natural to suppose that objects of contemplation so attract- 
ive and impressive as the Ane arts are, would impart something of their 
peculiar qualities to our thoughts and feelings, and thus, in the result, 
to our character and deportment. Our character is formed, and we 
are, in general, actuated, more by our senses, our feelings and our 
imagination, than by any thing else within us. Most men are what 
they are more from the ideas which they receive from the world around 
them, than from those which they originate. Indeed, by far the greater 
number of our first ideas are suggested by surrounding persons and 
objects ; and, excepting the faculties, by which we receive, combine, and 
employ these ideas, and which, in some instances, create a world of 
their own, we grow up mere copies or imitations of what has already 
been. How then is it possible for us to be unaffected by the fine arts, 
whenever seen, which appeal so powerfully and triumphantly to our 
taste and sentiments. The fine arts, in their perfection, are re-crea- 
tions of nature. All that is touching, thrilling, captivating, in the phy- 
sical world, is present in some one or other of the arts. And though 
life, and soul, and intellect do not literally exist in their productions, 
yet in all is seen and felt the pervading power and spell of genius ; 
and in some, so manifest and striking is the impression Which mind 
has lefl upon them, there is needed no conjurer's wand to call up during 
their pertlsal or examination, within the circle of our fancy and almost 
Vol. YI JtUy^ 1835. 28 



326 Tlu Moral Imflumct of the Fi»0 Jbi$* 

of our sotwoSt beautiful and glorious fonns, aB instiiicl widi life* and 
thought, and feeling. When art is thus successful, we seeoii.sometimes, 
by beholding to become the beings which it represents* We feel the 
inspiration which they are made to fee], the same emotions and pas- 
sions agitate our breast, the same beauty, grandeur, majesty, pervades 
pur mind, till we are as wise as the wisest, good as the best, in short, 
great as die greatest of those that act on the page of literature, breathe 
on canvass, or think and speak in marble* And though in some instant 
ces, and in some respects, this result may be prejudicial to our true 
interest, still it is Just what we all feel, in a greater or less degr^, 
even without those means of exciting or gratifying such a feeling. It 
is but the stirring within us of that desire of improving our condition, 
that aiming at perfection, that undeiinable longing aHer something great 
and glorious, which, though perverted by the fall, still clings to our na^ 
ture, as the susceptibility of the soul to experience all those high hopes 
and influences provided in the Gospel for all who fulfil their just and 
easy terms. These very efforts of the mind to expand its present 
narrow sphere of thought and feeling, whether they are put forth by 
the native, unassisted vigor of the soul, or roused by noble examples 
in real life, or by ideal images of exquisite grace, towering grandeur, 
lofty intellect or moral worth, in the fine arts, will always tend to pu- 
rify and dignify the sentiments of the heart No person of taste can 
witness and contemplate, occasionally, and especially always, as artists 
dof tl\e beautiful or the grand in music, painting, sculpture, or archi- 
tecture, without imbibing somewhat of their spirit. A man feels bis 
soul erecting, nerving, preparing herself for acticto, tkrough the impulse 
communicated to his emotions by the perception or conception of 
those qualities. He feels ennobled by the recollection of human skill, 
and by the consciousness of power to produce or enjoy such wonder- 
ful works. 

But the fine arts produce corresponding qualities in the mind most 
successfully, or increase them when produced, by calling into consttmt 
and vigorous exercise one of the intellectual faculties, most extensive 
and efficient in its influence on all the rest of ikian's complex nature: 
I mean the imagination. Next to the perception of external objects, 
this faculty has the widest and strongest control over men in general. 
It is one of the chief instruments of the happiness or misery of man. 
This faculty is the foundation of taste and genius. It furnishes genius 
with the materials of its operations, and taste with a kind of exhibition- 
gallery, in which it may steadily observci and calmly decide on the 
creations of genius botfi before and after they are produced for the 
inspection of the senses. While the imagination possesses so much 
power, the emotions excited by the fine arts are those in which it most 
delights, and it is frequently forming combinations suited to raise them* 
Under the influence of a depraved heart, this faculty is apt to be dis- 
ordered in its aims and operations ; but God has wisely so ordained 
that it can be, and ordinsuily is gratified with the exhibition of those 
qualities which are harmless, if Siey are not as holy, and conliaiii as 
much earthly, if not as much heavenly purity, as the sublimer attrir 
butes of religion. Now the employment of either genius or taste in 
the fine arts rouses and stimulates the imaginatioa, so that, even afler 
this employment, it is apt to form combinations ^ thought and seoti- 



f%t Mmd injhme€ of iht Fku Afii. 827 

nient vmSik U^ thmie <m which k haa been exercised through the sen- 
MS. Unit does the miiid receive a lasting impression-— a fiuieless hue« 
from those ipialities which -ere presented to its perception. These 
ideas itf Ike ianaginatioa have a powerful influence on all the character, 
aad give thdr peculiar ezpreasion to the conduct ; and hence we see 
the iropoilaaoe of directing genius to the production of such works as 
y^knmh, no improper alimeflt to the imagination. The forming of 
meirtsi images of rare and exquisite natural or moral grace, loveliness 
or sablimitj, always produeesr a good efiect upon the character and 
BsaiBiera. He who cultivates either taste or genius in the arts, lives, 
bj his imagination, amid scenes of natural or moral beauty or gran- 
deur; and he grows mild, gentle, and happy, in some sunny spot of 
earth, wi^ aiiectionate, relmed society about him, — or brave, indepen- 
dent, aad d^nified, amid the tnagnificence and sublimity of mountains, 
oeeMS, mid atorma, or among ^ soul-stirring scenes of grand civil 
or political movements. 

3. I will venture a third observation on die good tendency of the 
fine arts. The exercise or cultivation which the study and examina- 
tion of works of art give to the sensitive part of our nature, refines and 
ilnproves our sensibilities, and thus renders us more easily and deeply 
affected by die scenes of real life. There is danger, it is true, AaX 
our senttbilities may be exhausted or blunted by excessive excitement 
in the contemplation of images of mere ideal existence, or become 
morbid, in the same way, so as to be affected at improper times, and 
by unworthy objects; but this result will be owing to an erroneous em- 
ployntent of powera and means intended for our welfare. Experience 
and observation seem, howevert to establish the general fact. Hence 
a person of true refinement of taste is more susceptible of pleasvoe 
and pain,— of pleasure at the good of others, and of pain at their mis- 
fortunes. Si^h a person will be less liable to injure the feelings of 
another, and wiU never do it wantonly. He has a keen sense of self- 
respect, and of the respect and decorum becoming him on all occa- 
sions* There is a simplicity, affhbility, and condescension about one 
of cultivated sensib^ty, as honorable to himself as it is agreeable to 
his associates. Such an individual possesses a deep sympathy with 
humanity, and rejoices in all enterprises undertaken for the benefit of 
mankind. 

It is true the fine sensibilities of the heart may be improved by so- 
cial int^course; b«U it is no small recommendation of the arts, that 
they are conducive to so important a result. And though their ten- 
d^cy to produce this efi*ect may not be the most powerfiil^ induce- 
ment to the pursuit of them, yet, seeing they are and will be pursued 
for other very valuable purposes, it is gratifying to observe that they 
are naturally, and may be made particularly conducive to the improve- 
ment of those generous and benevolent feelings which are needed in 
tile every-day occurreoices of lift. And this they do, on a principle 
applicable in overy department of education, viz.-»the cultivation of 
any power of the mind on a given subject prepares that power to be 
used more easily on every other subject ; so, by a proper etftployment 
of onr taste or sensibility in the fine arts, it becomes more readily ex- 
cited in the common afikirs of Hfe. 
Though a qrstem of edUcatiofi directed mamly to the cultmtion of 



328 2^ Moral Inflmnee of tiU Fuu ArU. 

the moral powers and feelings, and pfrfessedly exelnsiire of the aid of 
the fine arts« may and will develop the kind and amiable afiectio&s, 
yet we feel prepared to say that it will not do this so agreeably with- 
out their aid, and indeed, will not do this really without Sie application 
of some of their chief elementary principles. The love of nature, the 
cultivation of which such a system would not neglect, leads, as we 
have seen, directly to the production of some of the arts. J ust taste 
and cultivated genius always produce representations true to nature, 
and delight in nothing more than in the exhibition of whatever is ten* 
der and touching in its character, — elevating and chastening in its ten- 
dency. Hence, among the most legitimate, pure, and lovely of the works 
of art are those scenes and objects highly distinguished for all ^t is deli* 
cate, gentle, and refined. In inculcating- these qualities, therefore, we 
inculcate those which it is the province and the glory of art to exhibit 
and excite. In such an education, it would be necessary to make 
some representation of the scenes which call for the exercise of be- 
nevolence and sympathy; and in doing this, 'some one or more o{ the 
fine arts, in its imperfect manifestation, at least, must be eipployed. 
How much better to allow the mind a firee range through all the beau- 
tiful walks and fields of genius, where it may find delightful gratifica- 
tion for its high and ardent aspirations, agreeable and vigorous exer- 
cise for all its afiTections and powers,, and many useful hints and 
instructions for its future occupation and direction. And fi-om these 
last remarks we may see that the fine arts would improve our sensi- 
bilities, not only by improving our taste, but also by employing, for this 
purpose, through the representation of suitable qualities, the suscepti- 
bility of the mind, already mentioned, to imbibe the spirit of those ob- 
jects which come under its notice* 

Closely connected with this topic is the consideration that persons 
of refined taste and genius abhor every thing vu^r and mean. The 
elevation and comparative purity of sentiment which such persons 
enjoy prevent them from. addicting themselves to low and grovelling 
vice. And though, owing to erroneous education, their contempt of 
vice may sometimes be transferred to the person of the vicious man, 
so as to prevent them from making any attempt to reform him, yet 
they should know that correct taste, as well as pure morality, would 
teach them to endeavor to reform the vicious, just as it would teach a 
person of neatness and order to remedy any defect in his dress or 
i^artment. One special way in which the arte produce the effect just 
noticed is, that they attract from vice by the superior pleasures which 
they afibrd. The man who has a relish for them possesses a more 
cheerful disposition than another otherwise similarly situated. His 
love of nature is increased at the same time with his taste, and he finds 
objects of delightful interest where all is blank or gloomy to another. 
Society, in its varied forms and operations, furnishes him, at any time, 
with fresh and interesting subjects of admiring contemplation. The 
character and furniture of bis mind dispose him to be happy in himself, 
and promote his social enjoyment. 

4. In the fourth place, an important moral end of the fine arts is the 
fuller development which the cultivation of them gives to the whole 
man. Their intellectual domain is an extensive one, and th^ seem 
to be its fittest and most natural proprietors and inhabitants. Either 



bin inde or polnhecl state, ttey generally occupy it ; and if broa^ 
under ^e snpreBie direetion and influence of the rightful sovereign of 
the mind, diey will greatly contribute to the advantage and happtn^ae 
of tiie whole man. True, other departments of the soul may for a 
while ttsihp dieir place, but Reorder, in some form or other, must be 
the fiflaJ result ef this partial or imperfect arrangement ; and if their 
proriiice is left unoccupied by its proper owners, it will probably be 
. filled wrth powers inimical and prejudicial to the best interests of man. 
One profflinent cause of the ruin of many individuals, is the partial 
culture of their intellectual and moral natures. Ignorance, or imper^ 
feet mental cultivation, is the origin and supporter of prejudice ; but 
prejudice and passion, under the influence of true principles of taste, 
will be restrained, if not in their inward existence, at least in their out- 
ward expression and tendencies. Hence the importance of improving 
the taste, which can be done most effectually by the influence of the 
fine arts. This influence begets liberality of soul, and is an entice^ 
ment to the pursuit of other studies, suited to the development of the 
mind. And we may say with truth, that the more the mind is enlarged, 
other things being equal, the greater is its moral power. 

There will happen seastms in the life of many, if not of all, when 
circumstances may require a long retirement from the active business 
of the worlds and when, owing to the natural activity of the mind, and 
the necessity of varied exercise in support of its vigor and comfort, we 
shal], if we have not this varied exercise, be in danger either of turn- 
ing our. cankering anxieties and thoughts upon ourselves, or else of 
weakening or polluting our souls with frivolous or sinful occupations* 
And at such seasons, and in those leisure hours which all men have, 
a taste and genius in some ofie or more of the fine arts will be found 
eminentily serviceable. 

Hie pursuit and study of the fine arts give exercise to the reasoning 
powers, and increase the powers of attention and discrimination. This 
increased mental activity we shair naturally employ on other subjects, 
as those of moral speculation and moral duty, and thus we may be led 
indirectly and agreeably to those convictions which may have a useful 
control over our whole character. Take anotl^er view of this point. 
Though taste is by no means the criterion by which to judge the 
moral character of actions, still it is, perhaps, no less true that Just 
taste will always be foutid conformed to the dictates of sound moral** 
ity. Hence such a taste may be, in some cases, a valuable auxiKary 
to the moral sense. The Divine Wisdom seems to have so aiTanged 
His moral government as to give suflicient instruction on the great 
general principles of morality and religion, so that every one may 
have the means of salvation, and, at the same time, to leave every 
one, for his own good, to the emplo3nment of all his powera in the ap- 
plication of those principles to the details and minutise of life. Hence 
the office of conscience and reason is not abolished nor contracted by 
revelation, but these talents, with othera, are given us to be strength* 
ened and enlarged by use. There may be passages in our experience 
in which the precise moral aspect of a contemplated action may not 
be distinctly seen, and we need all the lights of the mind to be poured 
upon it. And especially may there be cases, in which, though moral 
obligation may be Clearly discerned, yet the manner of performing the 

28* 



880 The Mor^l Injbmc4 of (k$ Fpu Jlrli. " 

a6ti<m may depend on princij^es of taele* Taibe an exuBfrfe firon 
aacred history. An illustrious personage has perpetrated a foul, enor- 
mous crime. He has robbed one of his most useful subjects first of 
the dearest object of his affections, and next of his life, but as yet he 
seems insensible of the magnitude of the evil. It ia necessary to awa- 
ken his conscience, and produce his repentance. A holy prophet is 
sent by God to him for this purpose. He goes, he does his duty 
faithfully, and accomplishes his object. But Nathan is guided, in his 
address to David, as the best means of producing the result, by the 
true principles of oratory. 

5. The moral influence of the fine arts on national character, will 
be briefly and imperfectly considered, in the fifth and last place. — 
Their tendency is to humanize and civilize the public mind. They 
naturally contain nothing savage, cruel, or vicious, either in their prin- 
ciples or legitimate operations. Indeed, they were the chief instru- 
ments in ancient civilization, and the principal marks by which an 
improved state of society was distinguished from the barbarity of other 
tribes. A remarkable instance of the humanizing tendency of music 
was exhibited in the condition of one of the tribes of the ancient 

4 

Greeks in Peloponessus. It was observed that the Arcadians were 
much more gentle in their dispositions, and, of course, more amiable 
in their manners, than their neighbors in the surrounding districts ; and 
as they w«re enthusiastically devoted to music, which their neighbors 
did not cultivate, their mildness of character was justly beUeved to be 
the efiect of its power. The fine arts always accompany civilization, 
and seem to be one of its. essential, but, certainly, one of its universal 
elements, both in ancient and in modem times. 

They furnish a species of popular amusement of elevated charac- 
ter. This amusement holds a middle rank between the gratification 
of the animal, sensual appetites and passions, and the high exercises 
of the understanding, and hence is an agreeable relaxation from the 
one, and a powerful attraction firom the other. This amusement oc- 
cupies this relation by consisting partly of pleasures of sense, and 
partly of intellectual exercises. The senses, however, which are thus 
gratified, are the noblest, and their pleasures most dignified, viz* the 
sight and hearing. These are the noblest of the senses, because they 
are most nearly allied to purely mental operations, since the impres- 
sions mad^ on their bodily organs are not perceptible. It seems to 
be necessary to our greatest happiness in this state of being, that we 
should have some relaxation of mind ; and God seems to have consti- 
tuted us and extiemal nature so as to effect this purpose among others. 
Now the higher the enjoyment, the better the efiect upon the mind and 
heart. Hence the sounds cmd sights of naturis afford the most agree- 
able and useful pleasures ; and the exhibitions of the fine arts, so sioi- 
lar to these, have almost an equal claim on our attention. The amuse* 
. mentsof a people have a powerful influence on their moral character; 
and, no doubt, bull-baiting, and other barbarous sports, engender or 
foster that peculiar recklessness of life, and fierceness of temper and 
manners, common to the people who practise or encourage them.-*- 
Letters and arts .exert a moralizing influence, not only by exercising 
higher senses than the gross indulgences of taste, smell, and touch do, 
.but also by giving gende and useful exercise to the intellectual pow^ 



ne M0fal h^hMHe4 6f the Fme JMt. SSI 

Mi Bad HKtfttl £Mliiig8» (the employment of which, as has been statedt 
is beneficial, to the cdbaracteri) which auch sports as those just alluded 
to do not furnish. 

U requires an advanced state of society, and the existence of hi^ 
intellecto&l endowments, for the production and appreciation of finish* 
ed specimens of art. Now, though extensive mental cultivation does 
not impiy always, and is not always accompanied by, great religious 
ciilture, still, since in such a condition, other things being equal, the 
iDoral and social feelings will be considerably refined, and since it is 
desirable to advance the intellectual improvement of a people, therefore 
the fine arts should receive, a due share of patronage. The more food 
there is for the mind, the more the mind gains ascendancy over appe* 
tites and passions. And the more agreeable the means by which in- 
struction and mental culture can be given, the more readily and suc- 
cessfully will they be attended to. Furthermore, the object of these 
arts, especially of those called fine arts in history, painting, sculpture* 
and architecture, not being so much pecuniary profit, but being more 
absolutely the gratification of the taste, the result of their pursuit is 
the enlargement and increased liberality of the mind. The pursint of 
gain, of money, and almost all the occupations of mere business, have 
a tendency to cramp and circumscribe the mind. It needs some 
agreeable and ingenious occups^tion for its leisure hours, and fitted to 
draw it away from the engrossing cares of business. The exercise of 
formative skill, or of high relish, in these arts, produces this efiect ; 
and the tendency of these arts to do so is probably one reason, but not 
the particular one, of their being called liberal. Hence those times 
and countries, when and where the liberal arts flourished, were distin- 
guished for intellectual superiority, for the general prevalence of a 
fondness for, and a just appreciation of, the labors of taste and genius; 
Thus a noble spirit of emulation was excited, directed to gratify this 
generous' and elevated state pf public refinement. And, though it may 
be difiicult to decide whether it was owing to this superior mental cul- 
tivation and liberality of sentiment, or not, we, nevertheless, find that 
those nations, if they did not receive Christianity soonest, having once 
received, retained it th^ longest, and were permanently afiected by it 
^n all their afiairs» It was corrupted among them, afler some time, it 
''is true, but yet it made a lasting improvement in their condition in 
many important particulars. 

Their influence is aa important element in tiiat grand department of 
political or national morality— -patriotism, or love of country. The 
cultivation of them makes us take a greater interest in the natural as- 
pects ai^d' phenomena of the country, and its inhabitants. We are 
necessarily led to observe and study its scenery more, its resources, its 
climate. We wish to give birth and being to that almost Lunate attach- 
ment to our native land, which all her true children feel. We there* 
fore desire to portray and describe her skies — ^her rivers — ^her ocean 
shores — her mountains, plains, and valleys — ^her spring — her summer 
— her various productions. We seek to be inspired by her charms, 
and she increases the ardor of our love toward her. So also her his- 
tory, and the history of her inhabitants, furnish many an interesting 
theme for the employment of the muses. Song, sculpture, painting, 
eloquence, are all busy with its scenes and evepte. The manners of 



832 The Moral Injbtmee ofOiM #!tee Ark. 

die inhabitants, too, are if ources of thriUing interest to genius. Thefle 
It delights to immortalize for amusement and instruction. Whatever 
the hand of genius touches, it endues with a tenfold charm. We al« 
irays take more pleasure in the view of scenes already made familiar 
to our imagination by the magic wand of poetry and painting. 

Again, tbe more objects of endearment there are in a country, the 
more tenaciously do her faithfu) citizens cling to her memory, and the 
more bravely do they stand in her defence. Works of art and litera- 
ture, being objects of deep md general admiration, always furnish 
nourishment and strength to this important principle of our nature.-^ 
They make a land more elegant and lovely, and therefore more dearly 
beloved, in the same way as naultiplying the attractions of our home, 
venders us more firmly and tenderly attached to our domestic circle 
and fireside. The eras md the climes of song, of eloqumice, in short, 
of taste and genius, possess a delightful interest in our hearts, seem to 
have an ethereal, spiritual character, and we cherish their memoiy 
among our most tender and hallowed recollections. The creations of 
genius, in the arts, seem to give a reality, a permanent existence, to 
the bright and splendid dreams of our youthful fancy ; and these dreams 
are what of our early years we most love to dwell upon. The works 
of art always maintain their empire, since the imagination, which is the 
same in all generations, finds in them the full and beautiful accom- 
plishment of its lofty aspirations, its ardent searchings, its mysterious 
operations. Thus to the present, and to future ages^ they will ever 
possess an indescribable charm, and will consecrate, in the affections 
and admiration of all men, the land that contains them, and especially 
the land that produces them. 

We are too apt to forget the universal power of taste— that the ob- 
jects of its gratification possess a kind of sacredness in its view — and 
that it may be made widely instrumental in promoting the welfare of 
ourselves, our country, and our posterity. If not for our own sakes, 
as individuals, yet, certainly, for the sake of our country and our 
children, we should patronize and encourage the arts. It is true we 
are passing rapidly to the eternal world, but we owe duties to our com- 
munity and to coming generations. We should endeavor to establish, 
in the hearts of our fellow citizens an ardent love for our national 
home, and to transmit to other ages our beloved country, in its freedom 
and its fame, improved and embellished by all that speaks to the fine 
sensibilities of the soul. We should extend and perpetuate, not only 
those institutions which purify and regenerate, but also those arts which 
dignify and adorn, human nature. So will this and future generations 
bless our memory, and entertain a deep and practical regard for the 
land of the good and the great in science and religion, and of the ele- 
gant, tiie graceful, the sublime in taste and genius. The fame of art* 
ists and of authors makes a part of the nation's glory ; and genius, and 
learning, and moral worth, when directed to the good of mankind, will 
be immortal. We cannot, then, but do a noble deed for ourselves and 
our country, by giving the moral influence, so imperfectly described, 
its broadest scope, and rendering it still more valuable and certain, by 
making the arts the means, not only of elegant amusement, but also 
of sound and useful education, through their exercise of lawful pow- 
ws and passions, and their exhibition of virtuous scenes and subjects. 



Mepati of tike fftW'York ChlonizisHcn Sodeiij. 3S8 



THIRD ANNUAL REPORT OP THB NEW-YORK 
COLONIZATION SOCIETY. 

Ths boanl of nuuMgem df the Cdonizi^on Society of the city of 
New-Yoikv in fweaenting their Annual Report, beg leaire to congratu- 
kte ihe aociely upon the success which, by the blessing of Provi- 
dence, hafi attended dieir efibrtA during the paet year ; and upon the 
bfighter prospects wUch are opening to their exertions, notwithstand- 
iag the opposition and discouragements they have encouirtered, and 
have stiU to apprehend. 

Shortly after the last annual meeting of the society, a proposal was 
submitted to the Board to unite with the Young Men's Colonization 
Society of Pennsylvania, in the establishment of a new and model 
colony upon the coast of Liberia, in furtherance of the general objects 
of this society, and in' execution of its previous determination to that 
particular effect. . A resohition was at the same time transmitted from 
the former institution, announcing the appointment of its President, 
the Rev. Joha Breckenridge, together with BUiot Cresson and Dr. 
John Bell, as a committee to coiifer with this board on the subject of 
the proposed union, and thereupon a committee on behalf of the board, 
consistmg of the President of tiiis society, the Rev. Cyrus Mason, and 
Anson G. Phelps, was appointed to treat with the committee of the 
Pennsylvania society, and conclude upon the terms of future co«K>pe* 
ration. 

The basis of an agreement was arranged by these committees of 
conference, and subsequentiy approved of by the board, whereby it was 
declared, 

1. That a union between the two societies ought without delay to 
be formed. 

2. That the basis of the union should be laid in a co-ordinate action 
of the two institutions, through their respective organs : and that addi* 
tiona} conventions or agreements should be entered into when special 
cases might require them. ' 

3. That the object of the union should be the establishment of a 
new uid model colony on the coast of Africa, on the following princi- 
ples, viz c— Temperaj9ce ; disisnasion from war ; the promotion of agri* 
cultural pursuits ; and the other principles embodied in the constitutions 
of the two societies* 

4. That the Ameiican Colonization Society, to which these institutions 
stand in relation of auxiliaries, should not be abandoned, but tiiat every 
thing should be done consistently with the primary object of the union, 
toward aiding the parent society. 

5. That the new colony should be located at Basse Cove, provided 
Governor Pinney should approve of that location^-<-and if not, at such 
other place as should be agreed on. 

6* That the name of the colony should be fixed upon thereafter. 

7. That each sociefy should immediately appoint an efficient agent. 

8. That the Pennsylvania sodety should go on to redeem its pledge 
in relation to the slaves of the late Dr. Aylett Hawes of Virginia, in 
expectation of the aid of this society in their removal to Africa. 

At the time this report of the conuaiittee of conference was ^ubmitw 



334 R^f9Tt af the Mw-ForA CohniaMHan 

ted to the board, and before its acceptance, an expedition in the ship 
Jupiter waa fitting out in this port, in pursuance of the permiMion 
given by the parent board to this society, * to establish a new settle- 
ment at some suitable location in Liberia, and to expend upon that ob- 
ject the money received under its immediate auspices ;' ^ich colony 
was to be estaUidied upon the principles set forth in the address of 
^liis society to the public, in February, 1834. For the purpose of 
making the necessary inquiries and arrangements for fhe immediate 
founding of this colony, as contemplated by the board previously to the 
project of the union with the Pennsylvania societyt— -Mr. Israel W. 
Searl, a graduate of Amherst college, was appointed to proceed in the 
Jupiter, to take charge of the new settlement under the superintendence 
of the Rev. Mr. Spaulding, who had been previously appointed the 
principal agent of this society in Africa* 

With a view therefore to the contemplated union, Mr. Searl was di- 
rected ' to confer with the principal agent, as soon aHor his arrival in 
laberia as possible, on the subject of a suitable location for the propo- 
sed colony,' and they were jointly instructed * to direct their attention 
to Cape Mount and Bassa Cove, with the view of ascertaining which 
of the two locations, all things considered, would be preferable for a 
new colony, in respect both to agricuhuro and to prospective commer- 
cial advantages.' Mr. Searl was « farther directed to act id concert 
with Mr. Spaulding in making such other personal surveys and exami- 
nations in regard to the soil, climate, and productions of the colonial 
territory, especially in reference to the prosecution of agricukural 
labor, as might enable the said agents to furnish correct and useful 
information to this board as to tibe best place for the location of a new 
colony. 

The Jupiter sailed from Ms port on the 21st of June last, widi 
stores, supplies, agricultural implements, and goods for the ^ise of the 
colony of Liberia, to the value of seven thousand dollars. Among 
the passengers were, beinde Mr. Searl, the Rev. Ezekiel Skinner of 
Connecticut, a physician as well as a missionary, and Dr. Robert Mc- 
Dowal, a colored man, educated at Edinburgh as a physician, both of 
whom went out undier appointments from the. parent board, as colonial 
physicians^ They were accompanied by Mr. Charles H. Webb, a 
medical student under the care of that board, whose purpose was to 
eomplete the study of his professkAi under the iastructioos of the phy- 
sicians of the colony, and aflerward to engage there in its practice; 
and abo by Mr. Josiah F. C. Finley, a graduate of Princeton college, 
who, as well as Mr. Searl, went out as -a teacher, under the patronage 
of the ladies' association oif this city. Beside these, Eunice Sharpe,a 
colored woman, of good education and approved piety from Vermont, 
proceeded to Liberia in the Jupiter, at the expense of diis society and 
in pursuance of a spontaneous determination to devote herself to the 
cause of education in Africa. 

Subsequently to tiie departure of the Jupiter, Mr. Thomas S. Clay 
of Georgia, made a communication to the board relative to certain per- 
sons of color at Savannah, whom it had been proposed, previously to 
the last annual meeting of this society, to send oat to ^e new colony ; 
and the object of Mr. Clay was to ascertain whether this hoatd would 
co-c^rate with the Pennsylvania society, in enabling the persons in 



JlqMfi ofOm Mm^Voth CohmkaUan Saektg. MS 

qudstioii to nnm^ to Libork. The munker widl roipoetftbiUljr of 
these peofleidiek peeuliar iknesft to act as pioneers for the fsrojected 
settlennentv aiul tbek anxiety to proceed without delay to Afiiea, pre* 
sented a case ei so modi iotmrest end emeigency as to induce this 
board* widiout waiting for the rep<Nrts of i^ agents in Ltberiat to unite 
at once with the Pennsylvania society in estabhshing the colony at 

Baws Cove, under the agreement made between the committees of 
coofeFence ; and wijli a view thereto another committee was appointed 
to raise the sum. of money reqiasite for sending out to Bassa Cove 
those free people of color al Savannah who proposed emigrating to 
Africa, 

This lesolutioa was communicated^ as directed by the committee 
of conference on the part of this board, to that of the Pennsylvania 
society; and die fonder committee was subsequently instructed to 
proceed to the consumoiation of the union between the two societies ; 
and was moreover empowered to appoint an efficient agent in purau* 
ance of the mutual agreem^it to that effect In execution of dus 
power, a negotiation was recently opened wiA a reverend gendeman 
of high character and great experience, whose qualifications for the 
office are such as to warraot the most sanguine expectations of bmie« 
fit from his exertionB ; and although no actual engagement has been 
concluded, yet from the cofiomunications which have passed between 
them, the board entertains the confident hope of obtaming his imme* 
diate and undivided services. 

In the interval that occurred between the departure of the Jupiter 
and the final consummation of the union* between the two auxiliary 
societies, the board was msited by the Bev. Dr. Laurie, the President, 
and the Hon. Walter Lowiie, a member of the board of managers of 
thQ American Coloniaatioo Society, as a committeoof that board ; and 
at their request the proposed terms of the agreement between this 
board and the Pennsylvania society were communicated to them at a 
special meeting of the board, held for the purpose of» conferrmg with 
them. At this meeting Mr. Lowrie made a statement of the wants 
and necessities of the parent board, and requested the. assistance of 
this society in obtaining donations and subscriptions for the use of the 
society at Washington ; whereupon it was * Beaohedf That the claims 
of the American Colonization Society upon the patronage and liberality 
of our fellow citizens at the present crisis presented, in the opinion of 
the board, an imperious call for prompt and vigorous efforts to raise 
funds, either by donations or subscriptions of stock, for the liquidation 
of the debts of the said society.' This board, moreover, waiisniy re* 
commended, the appeal proposed to be made in bdialf of die parent 
society to the friends <^ the cause in this cky and state ; and appointed 
a committee to aid the committee of the parent board in making their 
coUectiixis : which duty was faithliiJly discharged by the former, to 
the best of their ability, in regard not only to the gentlemen compo- 
sing the latter in the first instance, but in regard also to the Rev. Dr« 
Hawley and Mr. Joseph Gales, sea., also members of the board at 
Washington, who succeeded the first committee in their mission ; and 
t^ the entire 8ati£ifaction» it is believed, of all of them. 

From the favorable nature of the unoflicial accounts received by 
the board mtb respect le Bassa Cove, and from the urgency of the 



ZM R^art •/ Hu AW- Fori CUmmaIimi SheHU/. "" 

daima of * Aoie persons wbo were desirous of emigratiiig fifom C^or* 
\gia, the union with the Young Men's Colonization Society of Pennsyl- 
vmnia was finally consummated by the committee of conference, in 
pursuance of the directions of the board, without waiting for the report 
of its agents in Liberia. In addition to the former articles of agree- 
ment, it was then stipulated that thirty per centum upon all moneys 
raised by the two auxiliary societies, should be paid over to tiie parent 
board) for its exclasiire use; that the name of the new colony 
should be * Bassa Cove,' and that particular settlements should be 
designated by the names of *New*Tork,' and < Pennsylvania,' re- 
spectively. 

In the meantime die promptest means were requisite to secure the 
manumission of upward of one hundred slaves under the provisions 
of ihe will of tiie late Dr. Hawes of Virginia, and it therefore became 
necessary for this board, in preference to all other measures, to co- 
operate in their removal to Liberia within the time limited for that 
purpose, and which was shortly to expire. These persons had been 
transferred to the care of the Pennsylvania society by the parent board 
at Washington, * to be sent to Liberia, and supported there by the for- 
mer in a separate settlement or conununity, under the superintendence 
of such agents, and under such local laws and regulations as they 
might adopt ; but that the said community should be considered as a 
part of the colony of Liberia, and subject in all respects to the general 
laws of the same ;' and upon accepting the transfer and acceding to 
these conditions, the Pennsylvania society expressly stipulated for the 
right of making such modifications and reforms of existing laws, as 
would enable it to give greater encouragement to agriculture, to prohi- 
bit the importation, manufacture, or sale of ardent spirits within the 
new colony, and to adopt an improved plan for supplying the public 
warehouses, and for the issue by gift or sale of their contents to the 
colonists and native inhabitants. 

These preliminaries having been satisfactorily adjusted, the requisite 
purchases made of stores, utensils, clothing, and other supplies, the 
ship Ninus was chartered for the purpose of taking out the new colo- 
nists. On board of this vessel were accordingly embarked one han- 
dred and twenty-six colored emigrants, viz : one hundred and nine of 
the manumitted slaves of Dr. Hawes, among whom were several well 
versed in various handicraft employments, while the greater part of 
the remainder were also intelligent ; some able to read and write, all 
possessed of good moral characters, and nearly one half of the females 
expert seamstresses. In addition to these, the husband of one of 
them was manumitted by the Rev. Francis Thornton to enable him to 
accompany his family. Another father of a family, and a young girl 
whose parents were among the former party, were- purchased with the 
same view, and also proceeded with the expedition ; together with foar- 
teen other persons of color, manumitted by the heirs of the late Mat- 
thew Page, brother-in-law of Bishop Meade of Virginia, who were 
senft out by the parent society to the old colony, and whose passages 
were provided on board of the Ninus out of the funds of the expedi- 
tion. Beside these persons of color, Mr. Edward T. Hankinson and 
his wife went out in the same vessel, with the intention of establishing 
a manuaUlabor school in the colony, and for that purpose b» was sup* 



pKed by this board with an amf^ stock of agiicultnral implements, 
and with tools of Tarious descriptions for his workshops. ^ 

The Ninus arrived at Liberia on the 8th of last December, and on 
the next day proceeded to Bassa Cove, which had been previously 
esamined by Grovemor Pinney, the Rev. Mr. Teage, a Methodist mis- 
monaiy, Doctors Skinner, and M'Dowal, and Messrs. Russwurm 
and Propt, both experienced settlers of the old colony, who all con- 
curred in giving to that location a decided preference, and in repre- 
senting the health of the country about it as superior to any other in 
the vicinity ; the expense of settling there less than at any other part 
of Liberia, and that the certain effect of such a measure would be the 
deistniction of a neighboring slave factory, and thus prevent many bun* 
dred of the natives from being sold and exported as slaves. The 
most favorable and encouraging accounts of this expedition have just 
been received by the return of the Ninus to Philadelphia. On board 
of her came passenger a son of one of the native princes in whose do* 
minions the slave trade was formerly carried on, but who has since, 
through the influence of the civilization introduced by the colonists of 
Liberia, abandoned that traffic and entrusted his son for education to 
the Pennsylvania Society. 

The cost of this expedition was about eight thousand dollars ; viz. 
two thousand five hundred, for the charter of the vessel, .and about five 
thousand five hundred, for stores and merchandise. Of this sum two 
thousand one hundred and eighty dollars were obtained from the exe- 
cutors of Dr. Hawes, who, by his will, bequeathed the sum of twenty 
dollars toward defraying the expenses of the emigration of each of his 
manumitted slaves. The remainder was raised by the donations and 
subscriptions of benevolent individuals, principally in Philadelphia, and 
partially in this city. 

From the contributions and exertions of this board on this pressing 
occasion, it has hitherto been prevented from taking any definitive 
measure for the removal of the Georgia emigrants— toward the ex- 
pense of which are, however, applicable a sum of seven hundred and 
thirty dollars received from Andovcr in Massachusetts, on condition 
that every twenty-one dollars thereof should be appropriated to the 
payment of the passage to Liberia, of one emancipated slave ; and a 
farther sum of twelve hundred dollars collected and contributed by 
Mr. Clay, in express reference to this purpose. To malte up the de- 
ficiency, and provide funds for the emigration and settlement, not only 
of these, but of numerous other slaves in different parts of the Union, 
not less in the aggregate than eight hundred persons, whose owners 
have offered to manumit them upon condition of their removd to Li- 
beria, the board determined to send as soon as practicable another 
expedition to Bassa Cove, and for this purpose to raise the sum of 
fifteen thousand dollars. The first step toward the execution of diis 
measure was to call a public meeting of the citizens of New- York 
friendly to the colonization cause ; which was accordingly held on the 
fifteenth of January last, and was respectably and numerously at- 
tended. 

Among the resolutions adopted by this meeting, was one declaring 
that it regarded ^ the union and plan of operation agreed upon between 
the Colonization Society of the city of New- York, and the Young Men's 

Vol. YL—Jidy, 1835. 29 



S88 Report of the Jfew^Yarh ColonixtUion Socitlg. ' 

Colonization Society of Pennsylvania, as an event promising to be 
*liighly beneficial to the colonization cause ; and cordially recommend- 
ing it to the approbation and support of aH^ the friends of our colored 
population.' Another resolution approved * of the plan of raising fif- 
teen thousand dollars in aid of the objects of this society,' and propo- 
sed *' that a subscription should be opened for the purpose ;' which was 
immediately done, and the sum of six hundred and thirty dollars was 
collected and subscribed before the adjournment of the meeting. But 
this board has not since been able to procure the balance yet deficient ; 
although the immediate necessities of the new colony, and the strong 
claims of the people at Savannah, and of those numerous slaves who 
elsewhere await only the means of emigration to receive their manu- 
mission, press heavily upon the board, and impel them to renew the 
appeal to their fellow citizens, in behalf of these meritorious and suf- 
fering individuals, and in furtherance of the measures designed for 
their relief. 

Much of the delay which has occurred in carrying these plans into 
execution, is doubtless to be ascribed to the persevering opposition 
whieh the efforts of this board have encountered from certain persons 
in the northern and, eastern states, who believe or pretend, that the 
system of colonization is fraught with evil and pernicious consequen- 
ces to all the people of color in the country, whether held in bondage 
or emancipated, and whether the latter are induced to emigrate to the 
land from which they sprang, or prefer remaining in that of their invo- 
luntary adoption. In short, that the colonization system ^ tends to rivet 
the chains of the slave, and extends to Africa the vices, but not the 
benefits of civilization.' Upon these grounds or pretexts the persons 
in question both in their individual capacities, and collective organiza- 
tion under the name of * Anti-Slavery' societies, not only counteract 
the influence and traduce the principles of the American Colonization 
Society, and impugn the motives in which it originated, but actually if 
not wilfully, misrepresent its acts, policy, and proceedings, as well as 
the sentiments and conduct of all who publicly support its objects, or 
advocate its cause. They indiscriminately condemn every measure 
that has ever been adopted or suggested in relation to the colony of 
Liberia, defame the characters of &6se who from time to time have 
been engaged in its management and superintendence, exaggerate 
every error and misfortune which has occurred in its administration or 
government, and attempt to impeach the evidence they cannot refute, 
of its beneficial effects and prospective advantages— and all this avow- 
edly, because they deem its prosperity and existence incompatible widi 
their uncompromising and impracticable project for the immediate 
abolition of slavery in the south. 

From the characters and reputation of some of these individuals 
both for integrity and understanding, it is impossible to doubt their 
sincerity ; while from the language and conduct of the most forward 
of their associates, it is equally impossible to concede that these are 
regulated by the precepts of Christian charity, even admitting them to 
flow from the purest and most unquestionable motives. But whether 
deluded or designing, the ignorance or recklessness of these persons 
in regard to rights secured to the several states and their citizens, 
by the constitution of the Union — their misconception or disregard of 



Report ofAe Ntw^Tork Cokmizatian Society. SS9 

pubKc sentunent, even at the southt with respect to slavery,— •their 
niisinformation or wanton misrepresentation of the actual condition and 
umform treatment of the whole colored population, without exception 
or discrimination — ^thetr crude and visionary notions in regard to the 
practicability, and their imperfect views of the actual progress of eman- 
cipation — the precipitate and hazardous measures which they urge to 
promote it, tending to postpone instead of accelerating its accomplish- 
ment— *and their oversight or contempt of the insuperable local obsta- 
cles to the real improvement and social elevation of our free colored 
population, are circumstances which, in conjunction with the propa- 
gation of their doctrines by foreign emissaries — ^betray if not the foreign 
origin of their plan, its subservience at least to foreign interests and 
views. It has indeed been alleged, by one of our own citizens,* to 
i^hom we allude *more in sorrow than in anger,' as a sufficient reason 
for denouncing the colonization system and its advocates, that *if vari- 
ous ecclesiastical bodies in our country have recommended it to the 
patronage of their churches, it is regarded with abhorrence by almost 
the whole religious community of Great Britain ;' yet even this objec- 
tion seems to have been prompted by these intrusive foreigners, or 
urged to countenance their presumptuous interference. 

But, be the statement his or theirs, and admitting it to be correct ; 
admitting too, that the * Solemn Protest' bearing the name of the agi- 
tator O'Connel, as well as of the exemplary Wilberforce, affords conclu- 
sive evidence of the opinions * of almost the whole religious community 
of Great Britain,' this board can never acknowledge the competency 
or authority of persons at best but imperfectly acquainted with tlMi 
peculiarities and complexity of our political institutions ; uninformed, 
except by mischievous fanatics, of the situation of our colored popu- 
lation ; of the actual condition and treatment of those held in slavery ; 
and of the practicability or consequences of their immediate emanci- 
pation ; this board, we repeat it, can never admit either the competency 
or the authority of men whose lives and fortunes are not involved in 
the controversy, and who have no common sympathies with those 
whose welfare and existence depend on the issue, but are aliens to our 
country and its institutions ; to pronounce their anathemas against * the 
doctrines and conduct of the American Colonization Society,' — what- 
ever may be the characters, respectability, or stations of such persons ; 
however distinguished for their wisdom or moderation as British states- 
men, for the catholic spirit of their beneficence as British philanthro- 
pists, or for their patriotism and loyalty as British subjects. 

The boated will neither undertake to decide whether the prudence 
and delicacy of their interference, the courtesy of the terms, or the cha- 
ritable spirit of their dmiunciation, are equal to the zeal by which they 
seem to have been prompted ; nor whether that zeal might not have 
been as reasonably excited by a consideration of the state of the Irish 
peasantry, or to the consequences of the sudden abolition of slavery 
in their own colonies. These are questions which this board willingly 
leaves to the conscientious and deliberate reflection of the surviving 
parties to the * Protest;' though it would feel more confident of a re- 
versal of their opinions, could the purified spirit of Wilberforce exer- 
cise over them an influence equal in degree, but opposite in character, 

• The Hon. William ^f&y, of Westchmttr. 



to that which operated upon his enfeebled. mind when, almost id Uhs 
article of death, he was induced to sign that instrument 

That the ' Protest' does not speak the sentiments of ' the whole re- 
ligious community of Great Britaint' is however manifest from a letter 
already before the public, addressed to the president of this society by 
Lord Bexley, the president of the British and Foreign Bible society, 
as well as of the British African Colonization Society, an institution 
formed under the patronage of the only member of the royal family of 
England, who has uniformly supported the abolition of slavery in her 
colonies. But with all our veneration and respect for England, her 
religion, her literature, and her laws ; with all our gratitude and attach- 
ment to the land from which we derive our origin, our language, polity, 
and jurisprudence ; with all our sympathy with her philanthropists, 
and admiration of her benevolent institutions, — let public sentiment in 
Great Britain be on this subject what it may, it is more important to 
show, to the satisfaction of our own countrymen, that the aspersions 
cast on this society, either by the undistinguishing zeal of foreigners, 
or the less excusable infatuation ofour own enthusiasts, are alike unde- 
served and unjustifiable, and wholly irreconcilable with truth, candor, 
and Christian charity. 

That the colonization in Africa of our free people of color tends to 
the immediate and essential improvement of their condition ; that it is 
in fact the only method by which' they can be raised to political and 
social equality with the whites, while so far from preventing or retard- 
ing the extinction of slavery, it operates directly to promote emanci- 
pation, in the most eligible, safe, and certain mode, must be plain to 
every fair and dispassionate inquirer, who will examine this momentous 
subject with the patient labor and careful attention its importance de- 
mands. It must however be recollected in entering upon the investi- 
gation, that the abolition of slavery is not the direct object proposed by 
the establishment of colonization spcieties ; it is neither embraced in 
terms by their plan, nor referred to in their constitutions ; and to what- 
ever extent it may be encouraged or accomplished by their operations, 
it is only by incidental, though perhaps, necessary consequence. They 
regard the subject, as it truly is, one which the constitution of the Uni- 
ted States leaves to the sole regulation and control of the several 
states 'in which slavery exists, and consequently as one upon which 
congress cannot legislate, and with which no other power, whether 
self-created or deriving its authority from the people of the union, or 
of any other state, is warranted to interfere. * The exclusive right of 
each state in which slavery exists, to legislate in regard to its aboli- 
tion,' is indeed expressly admitted by the constitution of the Anti- 
' Slavery Society itself, which declares that its aim is to ' convince our 
fellow citizens by arguments addressed to their reason and consciences, 
that slave-holding is a heinous crime in the sight of God ; and that the 
duty, safety, and best iinterests of all concerned require its immediate 
abandonment vAihovit txpatritUian .*"" while the avowed object of the 
American Colonization Society and its auxiliaries is merely the remo- 
val, and settlement upon the coast of Africa, of free persons of the 
African race, with their own free consenL 

To establish the first of the propositions thus officially promulgated 

• Vide ConatitatioB ef the Amnioftn Aati.81av«7 Society. 



Report of the JYew^York Colonization Soeiett/. 341 

by our opponents, no argument need be * addressed to the* reason and 
consciences,' of many of * our felKow citizens ;' — for no member of 
this society, or of this commanity, and comparatively few, it is be- 
lieved, even among the enHghtened slaveholders at the south, require 
to be * convinced* of the guilt of voluntarily reducing to bondage, or 
holding in peq>etual servitude, a fellow creature. They deny however 
that it is a crime in them to retain in subjection to the laws, and to 
other imperious circumstances, those ignorant and helpless beings who 
have been cast upon their protection as well as thrown into their power, 
by no act of their own. The points really at issue, then, arise upon 
the sec6nd of the propositions embodied ii^ the constitution of the im* 
mediate abolitionists, taken in connection with its express repugnancy 
to colonization, or, as it terms it, ' expiUriation ;' and these, as they 
relate to two descriptions of persons, naturally resolve themselves into 
two questions, viz :-*-First, whether * the safety and best interests' of 
those people of color who have obtained their freedom, will be most 
certainly and efiectually promoted hy their continuance in this country, 
or by their voluntary emi^ation as colonists ; — and secondly, whether 
the general emancipation of the slaves in the southern states will be 
more speedily effected by arguments addressed to their owners, by 
northern men, than by the inducements to manumission afforded by 
the plan of colonization, in which .the north and south are united, in 
ofiering the means of removing them, when manUmitted, to Africa. 

I. With respect to the first question, it will be perceived that, as it 
is practical in its nature, it can only be determined by experiment; and 
in order to decide upon the comparative merits of the two systems, 
both having in view * the intellectual, moral, and religious improvement 
of our free colored population,' and differing only with respect to the 
theatre of their operations, we must be enabled to look at their respect- 
ive results. It will be perceived, too, that even upon the point of dif- 
ference there is no necessary incompatibility or inconaiistency in their 
co-existence. Both systems, so far as free persona of color are con- 
cerned, may be carried into full operation without the least interference 
with each other. The colonization society does not contemplate the 
removal to Africa of the whole mass of our free people of color, but 
only of such of them as are willing and qualified to emigrate ; and ihe 
success of their scheme depends mainly on the characters and qualifi- 
cations of the emigrants. It is the interest therefore, as well as the 
declared object of this society, to promote the emigration of the most 
exemplary and intelligent individuals of the colored race \ and surely 
it may ss^ely be left to the judgments of such persons to determine 
for themselves, whether a greater degree of comfort, welfare, respect, 
ability, and happiness may be attained and enjoyed by them in this 
country, where they are surrounded by a more numerous population 
of a distinct race and different color, by the great majority, of whom 
they will, so long as slavery endures in any portion of the union, be 
regarded as an inferior citste^ and excluded from all equdlity of social 
intercourse, even when admitted to an equal participation of political 
and civil privileges, than in the colony of Liberia, where no such dis- 
tinctions, prejudice, or degradation can exist, where they will be secure 
of perfect equality in the enjoyment of all social advantages as well as 
of political freedom, civil uberty, and religious privileges; and where 

29* 



342 Rfpprf of Uu fftw^Tork Cokmizaii<m Soeieiy. 

every individaal among them maj prove an eflfbctual miBsionarjr for 
the conversion and civilization of the kindred' inhabitants of that vast 
continent, from whose shores their own ancestors were torn by fraud or 
violence. 

So fiir indeed as the experiment has proceeded, all these results 
have been already shown to be attainable ; and many of them have 
actually been realized, notwithstanding the mistakes and disappoint- 
ments which, though to a less extent than in any similar instance^ have 
attended this first enterprise of the American Colonization Society. — 
And if all the benevolent expectations of its founders were not imme- 
diately accomplished, should they at once have abandoned their pur- 
poses in despair, instead of applying proper remedies and correctives 
to past errors, and effectual checks and preventives to future mistakes, 
misfortunes, and abuses? Fortunately for humanity, fortunately for 
the subjects of their beneficence, and happily for Africa, such was not 
their decision ; and ^e prosperity and increase of the original colony 
of Monrovia, and its dependencies, the reforms that have been introdu- 
ced in its administration and government, as well as the multiplication 
of new settlements within the limits of Liberia, upon improved princi- 
ples, under better regulations and more favorable auspices, have al- 
ready been the rewards of their perseverance. 

But if the design and expectations of this society should not be ful- 
filled ; if a single emigrant sent to Liberia should be disappointed in 
his hopes, become dissatisfied, and 'conclude that it would have been 
better for him to have remained in this country, it is always in his power 
to return: for as his own consent was necessary to his removal, 
nothing more is requisite to enable him to leave the colony, but the 
mere expense of the homeward passage, which if his own industry 
should be insufficient to supply, it cannot be presumed that the bene- 
volence of his more fortunate associates, or of his new found patrons, 
would withhold. Upon his arrival here he would at all events be a fit 
subject for the patronage of those who * aim to elevate the character 
and condition of our free people of color, by encouraging their in- 
tellectual, moral, and religious improvement, and by removing public 
prejudice, to enable them, according to their intellectual and moral 
worth, to share an equality with the whites, of civil and religious pri- 
vileges.'* All this, as far as practicable, can certainly be efiected 
without any necessary interference with the objects of the Colonization 
Society, — unless the returned emigrant should be persuaded to give his 
public sanction to distorted, exaggerated, or unfounded statements 
with respect to the health, morals, condition, or prospects of the colo- 
ny, and defame the motives and proceedings of its founders and their 
agents. Let then the friends of immediate emancipation proceed in 
the execution of any practical measure for the moral improvement of 
our colored population, and let them no longer content themselves 
with accusing the friends of colonization with indifilerence to that sub- 
ject ; a charge, which if advanced against the society, as a body, roust 
be pronounced to be absurd, as well as groundless, inasmuch as the 
improvement of the colored race, except as it attebded, and was neces- 
sarily induced by their removal to Africa, was not the object for which 
this society was formed : — and if the charge be alleged against its in- 
* Vide Conctitation American Anti-Slavery Society. 



drriduai members) a mere reference to the number and names of tboee 
of them who were members of the state abolition societies, both in 
this stele and Pennsylvania, and who are now actively engaged as 
trustees of public schools, devoted to the education of nree people of 
color, is safficient to refute it. 

II. The question whether the general emancipation of the slaves 
would be more speedilj effected by arguments fiddressed to their own- 
ers, than in consequence of the means afforded by the Colonization 
Society of removing them to Africa, and establislung them there, in 
oi]^«aised communities, is also, as to tiie alternative proposed by this 
society, practical in its nature. And if upon this point there appear 
any collision or repugnancy between the respective objects of the anti- 
slavery and colonizatioo societies, it can only arise from die implied 
denunciation and declaration of hostility against the latter, contained 
in the constitution of the former ; and from the positive tendency and 
effect of the measures it proposes, to defeat not only the design of 
colonization, but even its own purpose of immediate abolition. Al- 
ready have the jealousies of the south been rekindled by What tibey 
consider a presumptuous and wanton interference with their politicai 
n^ts and personal security, on the port of officious strangers ignorant 
alike of their position and of their opmions. The avowal of immedi- 
ate aboHtion as their object was indeed calculated to excite apprehen- 
sion, as it could scarcely have been possible that such a purpose could 
be hoped,' even by those who avowed it, to be saddei^y accomplidied 
by means of arguments and persuasion addressed to the ownem of 
slaves ; but rather through such as might be addressed to the slaves 
thems^ves; and accordingly the proceedmgs and publications of 
modem abolitionists, instead of producing even gradual conviction 
upon the minds of the former, of the sinfiuness of slavery, or leading 
to improvement in the condition and treatment of the latter, have bat 
provoked resentment and excited alarm in the bosoms of the masters, 
and occasioned severer restraints upon the physical comforts and moral 
and religious instruction of the slaves. 

But this is not all : the doctrines avowed by the immediate abolition- 
ists, although countenanced only by an insignificant portion of our 
northern population, have revived in the south a universal distrust of 
the professions, sentiments, acts, and designs of all northern men and 
northern institutions, in reference to slavery ; and have consequently 
embarrassed and impeded the operations of the Colonization Sociefy; 
not indeed in the mode or on the grounds intended by the abolitionisto, 
but in a manner and for reasons directly opposite in their nature, but 
to an extent and degree which would nevertheless afford to these ene- 
mies of colonization ample room for exultation, were it not that this 
very circumstance disproves the design imputed to the south, of encou- 
raging colonization, from its tendency to perpetuate slavery. 

Were it not indeed for tliose untoward consequences of the anti- 
slavery doctrines and proceedings, the friends of colonization might 
well be content to yield the field of argument and speculation to their 
adversaries, and silently and resolutely pursue that course of practical 
measures which obviate at least one formidable impediment to eman- 
cipation, by offering to the conscientious possessor. of a slave the 
opportunity of divesting himself of what is impoaed on him as prepay. 



344 Report o/ikB AW* Fori Colanizaiian Socidig* 

frequently by the opeiatioii of kw done. It offers to him the means not 
Only of relieving his conscience of a burden, but of removing a weight 
or an opprobrium cast upon himt perhaps as an inheritance, and which 
he willingly sustains no longer than the law allows, and humanity per- 
mits ;~*no longer than until he can bestow freedom without rendering 
it a greater curse than slavery itself. The institution of the parent 
society by the cooperation of citizens from all parts of the union, of 
whom many were distinguished for patriotism and intelligence, for pru- 
dence and discretion, as well as philanthropy and piety, was liailed as 
a discovery of the happy means of uniting &e noith and south in one 
grand enterprise of national benevolence. Beside promoting an inter- 
course whidi might remove jealousies and prejudice, and beget mutual 
confidence and esteem,-— the direct object proposed was the coloniza- 
tion of free people of color upon the shores of Africa, with their own 
voluntary consent And although the motives of differeht individuals 
for concurring in the scheme were doubtless various, yet the general 
-views of a large majority of its founders were directed not only to the 
improvement of the moral and physical condition of the free people of 
color, and embraced through their instrumentality the regeneration of 
Africa, but comprehended the gradual extinction of slavery as a neces- 
sary result The founders orthe American Colonization Society were 
convinced that without the consent and co-operation, of the south, not 
a step could be taken which led to abolition ; and that without the aid 
and contributions of the north, no funds or resources could be provided 
either for the removal of such persons of color as might be disposed to 
emigrate, or to give effect to the intentions of those proprietors who 
might be disposed to manumit their slaves : while of those founders of 
the institution who might have originally contemplated the abolition of 
slavery as the eventual consequence of the colonization system, none 
probably were of opinion that even if that end could be effected by any 
method which did not like this insure the preparation necessary for the 
enjoyment of freedom, it would prove neither advantageous to tiie slave, 
safe for his master, nor consistent with the spirit of rational and dis- 
creet humanity. 

They well know that among the southern proprietcM^ there were 
many individuals who from principles of policy were anxious for the 
entire abolition of slavery, but were prevented from manumitting their 
own slaves, not merely by the laws prohibiting it except on condition 
of removal, but also by those higher scruples and considerations of 
duty which forbade the abandonment to their own discretion and con- 
trol those who from ignorance, infirmity, or vice, needed more powerful 
restraints and protection than any which the laws afford them. Pro- 
prietors of this description would, it was supposed, be encouraged hy 
the colonization system in their benevolent purposes of manumitting 
such of their slaves as were capable of using their freedom for their 
own benefit ; and of preparing for freedom such of them as might 
otherwise abuse it to their ovhi injury, as well as to the detriment of 
society, — ^by giving them such instruction as would fit them for its 
enjoyment ; while those who regard their slaves merely as property 
would be led by the influence of example, and from a perception of the 
enhanced profits to be derived from free labor, to adopt from motives 
of policy and interest the same measure which others had pursued from 
principle and feeling. 



lUport ofllu J^€W*Yotk Col&nizaUon Society » MS 



That these hopes and expectations o( the fwrndtts of the 

Colonization Society were not fallacious, is evident from the number 
and character of the slaves who have already been manumitted, and of 
those who await emancipation solely from the operation of the coloni* 
zatioQ system. It is also manifest from the rapid increase of free 
labor in some of the southern and western states ; and it is proved 
beyond a doubt by the actual adoption of a law for the gradual aboli- 
tion of slavery, founded upon African colonization, in one of those 
states, and the prospect of that example being speedily followed by the 
legislatures of at least two of the others* Another conclusive proof 
of the direct tendency, of colonization to extingubh slavery, arises from 
the fact of the larger portion of the emigrants to Liberia having been 
maDumitted that they might become colonists ; and if any farther testi- 
mony be required, it is adSbrded by the offer of this society to receive* 
and in tKe circumstance of its having actually received and appro- 
priated to that object large donations of money, upon the express 
condition of applying them exclusively to the removal of maauipitted 
slaves. 

But it is objected that the system of colonization, admitting it to be 
beneficial, is necessarily too hmited in its objects, and too tardy in its 
operations, to prove effectual as a remedy for the evils, or as an instru- 
ment for the extirpation of slavery. This objection, although professing 
to admit, merely for the sake of argument, the beneficent character of 
the enterprise, yet in effect unavoidably and unwittingly concedes the^ 
point. Were it however substantially founded, it might the more easily 
be removed if those who urge it would but co-operate in the attempt ; 
for we can imagine no impenetrable barrier or insuperable obstacle to 
restrict the efficiency of colonization, except such as arises from the 
want of pecuniary means to obviate or overcome them ; and these 
means would of course be readily available if our adversaries would 
but contribute to them a tithe of the sums which they lavish in creating 
difficulties and erecting impediments to our success. It was never 
indeed contemplated by the founders of the scheme to colonize the 
whole of our free colored population, much less to remove from this 
country all who are now in bondage. It will be well if means be 
found to insure the emancipation and removal annually of a number 
equal to the present annual increase of the slave population, or even of 
all whose freedom may be obtained upon the condition of their removal. 
But whether the number of those who emigrate be greater or less, in 
proportion at all events to that number must be the benefits derived 
from the colonization system. And surely none but those who avow- 
edly prefer that every slave that now exists, or hereafler may be bom 
on this continent, should remain in bondage, rather than obtain freedom 
at the price of removing to the land of his origin ; none but those who» 
with the example and history of their own country's settlement before 
ihem, assert that ^ Colonization extends to Africa the vices, but not 
the benefits, of civilization ;' none but such hardy objectors will insist 
that nothing should be essayed, because every thing cannot be accom- 
plished ; that not a single slave should be liberated, because all can- 
not be set free at once. Time and experience are alone requisite to 
convince those who are not wilfully blind, that this objection is as futile 
as it is unfounded ; and time and experience alone can determine whe- 



346 Report of the Jfew^Yorh CoUmixaiion Society, 

ther the plan of colonization, or the means proposed by its opponents, 
are the best adapted * to improve the intellectual, mond, and religious 
condition' of the colored race ; and whether the former in its effects 
and consequences does not promote the abolition of slavery more cer- 
tainly and securely, and even more speedily, than tiie direct efforts of 
the immediate abolitionists. 

This board however will by no means intermit their exertions or 
relax in their perseverance until these questions can be determined. 
Their past experience is sufficient to confirm and strengthen their 
original confidence in the wisdom, beneficence, and practicability of 
their enterprise ; and they will resolutely continue to pursue it through 
good report and through evil report, without being overawed or tempted 
to deviate from their avowed and legitimate purpose of removing to 
the shores of Africa such free persons of color as are willing to emi- 
grate, iind are worthy to become colonists of Liberia: and if under 
Providence this society should be instrumental in carrying Christianity 
and its attendant blessings into that boimdless waste of heathenism, 
which extends beyond the field of their immediate efforts, the board 
of managers will consider diemselves overpaid for all the labor, anxiety, 
and reproach they have endured, and for all they may be called on to 
sustain. And in conclusion they would ask, What directly meditated 
purpose can be imagined more exalted or more hallowed than this 
merely incidental consequence of the colonization enterprise ? Instead 
of extending * to Africa the vices but not the benefits of civilization,' it 
has already accomplished almost literally the reverse ; and if it has not 
sent forth the blessings, wholly unalloyed by the vices, of cultivated 
life, it is because they are to a certain degree inseparable from each 
other. The essential advantage9 of civilization have nevertheless 
been imparted to Liberia, while its inherent evils have been restrained 
and mitigated. Ample testimony moreover is at hand to vindicate the 
character of# the colony, and to prove that as a mond and religious 
community it is excelled by few, perhsi|>s by none, on the Amerlcaa 
continent, or in the British isles. Not only have the lights of Gospel 
truth, of education, and virtuous knowledge, as well as of practical 
science, and the useful arts, been enkindled in these infant settlements, 
but they have gone forth among the heathen who surround them. The 
hall of justice and the seminary of learning have been reared, and the 
Christian temple already lifts its spire to heaven. Already have the 
heralds of the cross borne sacred fire from its altar into the dark 
regions beyond the desert ; and ere long ' Ethiopia shall stretch forth 
her hand,' and the * heads of her princes' be illumined by the lambent 
flame, which as it enlightens, purifies, and as it expands the heart and 
mind to the love and contemplation 6[ the ever-living God, warms the 
whole man to sympathy and charity with every tribe and individual of 
his kind* 

All which is respectfully submitted. 

W. A. DusR, Presidtnt. 
Ira B. Undsrhill, Rec* Sec^y. 

Mw-Torh, May 11, 1835. 



TImlUgkal EdMcaiUn. U7 



For the MethcKfitt Ma^azme and Ctiiartcrly Revi«ir« 
THEOLOGICAL EDUCATION- 

[The following must end this controversy in this periodical, so long 
as the present editor has it under his control. And we think our read-» 
ers will perceive in this, as well as in the one to which it is an answer, 
good reasons for declining the discussion of this question in the columns 
of die Christian Advocate and Journal. — Editor.] 

Mr. Editor, — ^In the communication of Rev. La Roy Sunderland, 
published in your last number, in vindication of his former * Essay on 
Theological Education,' against the * Brief Strictures' which I had made 
in a previous number of the Magazine, there is so much of personality, 
that but for the interest I feel in the cause of * education and intelli- 
gence,' and the righteous zeal against ^ theological seminaries' in the 
Methodist Episcopcd Churchy which I rejoice to feel, and which I 
regard a sacred duly to exhibit on all suitable ^>ccasions ; — ^but for this 
I should not condescend to notice the author by the present rejoinder. 
And I feel that even now I shall not be able to measure swords with 
him in this mode of warfare, nor do I find it in my heart .to « render 
railing for railing,' but would rather Meave him -alone in his glory.' 
The severities of my * Strictures,' of which La Roy Sunderland com» 
plains, as every one of our readers knows, were directed oiUy at the 
sentiments, doctrines, and tendency of the essay of this junior preacher, 
while to his. person or ministerial character I offered no indignity, and 
to his motives I aMrarded a measure of approval, and even praise, for 
which I have been censured by many of the most literary and best 
educated men in the Church ; sevend of whom have written me in 
remonstrance against the * unjustifiable lenity' with which I treated the 
author of an ' essay' so utterly at variance with Methodism and Chris- 
tianity, as I have attempted to prove this to be. But it is true, not- 
withstanding nay forbearance toward him, which he fails to appreciate, 
that there are severities in the * strictures' against mistakes, and here- 
sies, such as those of which I have convicted the essay, under which 
^ none but the galled jade will wince.' Qui capita iUe facit^ is the test 
by which it may be * known and read of all men,' whether La Roy 
Sunderland has or has not ' plead for theological schools' in the * ob- 
jectionable sense,' or in any sense : and to the^readers of the Maga^ 
zine it will now be apparent, that it is to the TRUf h of my allegations 
against Ihe essay that I am indebted for the personal sneering at my 
humble name^ and even the professional title I bear, which La Roy 
Sunderland has introduced with so sickening repetition. 

It is not a little remarkable, how this * junior preacher,' in a paper on 
^ Theological Education^* has contrived to introduce into his first para- 
graph the very relevant topics of * brick bats^ prisons^ Irishmen^ 
popery;^ and last, though not least, * anti'Slavery P and this fact may 
serve to indicate the perturbation into which La Roy Sunderland has 
been thrown by the * brick bat thrown at his head' in the shape of my 
* brief strictures' on his essay. And any one who has read my paper 
with common candor will, I am sure, apquit me of having used one 
single expression which savors of the acrimony and censoriousness 



tmm^ 



848 neohgicfil MdmcaiM. 

which characterize his reply, or a solitary word of that personality with 
which he has. assailed my humble name. No less than sixteen dmes 
does he repeat my name in half as many pages, and sometimes twice 
or more in the same paragraph, and always with a sneer of sarcasm, 
as though he thought this an exhibition of that * candor' and * Christian 
courtesy* which he so highly commends. Had I treated La Roy Sun- 
derland thus in my * strictures,' he would have had just ground for com- 
plaint, and some pretext for retaliation. 

But (he question between us is not whether La Roy Sunderland or 
I be the abler controversialist ; nor whether * theological seminaries' 
ought or ought not to be appended to our ecclesiastical system ; — ^for 
this last question is precluded from the Magazine by the decision of its 
editor ;— -but the question is simply, wheUier the kind of tkeotogied 
tducoHon for which his essay contends, be consistent with Methodism 
as such, and whether the doctrines of his paper are or are not enforced 
by unfounded assertions, and heretical or antichristian sentiments. 
And it is obvious that this question is not to be settled by the enumera- 
tion of distinguished names, who * heard it read,' either before or after 
its publication. For although the reference to the respected brethren 
he names may for the most part be authorized by them all,* yet this 
would only prove that they agreed with him in sentiment, but would 
prove nothing in relation to the question at issue. It will be necessary 
however that I should first show that La Roy Sunderland in his * Essaj' 
upon which my strictures were founded, did ' plead' for ' theological 
schools,' which he denies * having itUended to do.' To settle this 
question the following extracts from his Essay are submitted to the 
reader :— 

After referring to ancient and modern theological schools, he says, 

* The Wesleys &emselves were trained and educated for this sacred 
work in the very way of which we heme been speaking.^ ' They were 
educated for the ministry, and so also was Fletcher, and Dickenson, 
and Benson ;' and ^ Fletcher himself was once the president of a iheo' 
logical seminary, at the same time he was a Methodist, and in good 
faith and fellowship with Wesley and his people.' * Efforts are now in 
operation for the establishment of a theological seminary in England, 
by the Wesleyan Methodists of that country.' * The idea o{ theologi- 
cal Beminaries among the Methodists is not something new, as many 
suppose, and their establishment would not be an innovation on the 
original plan of Wesley.' 

The foregoing are a few of the evidences which the * Eissay' affords 
that La Roy Sunderland did * plead for theological schools,' whether he 

* iniended^ to do so or not. And the reader may judge whether a 
brick bat was hurled at hia head * merely for advocating the cause of 
education and intelligence,' as he pretends. 

But as the * jimior preacher' now distinctly affirms that he did not 
fit<€iMi to * contend ibr a theological seminary of any kind,' and that 
all the foregoing extracts * concerning theological seminaries are said 

* One of the gentlemen reined to, Bev. President I>arbtn, as is admitted ia 
the Essay itself, rejected it when offered to him for publication in the Advocate 
while he was the senior editor of that paper, whether on account of the 'here, 
sies* it contained, or, as is alleged, because of the question not baying been yet 
opened for discmsion in .that paper, I have no meanB of decidinf . 



inddeiUMf^* and for the mere purpose of *iBii^fralion/ we need no 
farther controversy on that subject, but I will only admonish this 
'junior preacher,' thatr when he next writes an * essay' on any subject, 
he had better only say what he intends, and he will hare no necessity 
, afterward of announcing that he did not inUnd what he says^ I ex* 
ipressly provided this loop hole for him in ray Strictures, when I said,. 

* It is no vindication to say that the author did not mean to go so far,— - 
it ia sufficient for me to prove that hi» Eesay doe$.^ 

This retraction of the most objectionable feature of the Essay is 
accompanied by a number of desultory and incoherent complaints 
against my Strictures, which call for a passing notice. The following 
disclaimer of the sentiment that * men may be made minidera ike same 
08 men are made merchantB and mechanics^'' is altogether uncalled for, 
since this italicised sentence, though craftily accompanied with quotap 
tion marks, to give the impression that it is my language, is not found 
in the * Strictures.' And yet after pretending to quote it from me. La 
Roy Sunderland exclaims :-— 

' Such a thought never entered my heart till I found it in the Stric- 
tures of D, M. Reese, M. D. I never said this. I never wrote it. 
I never said nor wrote any thing which by any honest rules of inter, 
preting another's language, could be made to imply this 1 Never !' 
Now he certainly never • found it' in the * Strictures,' for it ienot there ! 
Every reader of my paper will see Ihat I charge him with ^depreciating 
the holy office of the ministry to the standard of a mere secular calling;' 
and what is said about a ^merchant and mechanic,' is in a quotation 
vtrbatim et literatim from his Essay. The * fairness, candor, and 
Christian courtesy* of this * junior preacher' here are only a demonstra- 
tion of the old truth, that * the wicked flee when no tium pursneth /' 
That charge may have been made in some other of the public rebukes 
which the Methodist press* of this country has given to the author of 
the Essay, which in hb ' confusion worse confounded,' he dreamed was 
in the * Strictures.' 

Again : La Roy Sunderland charges that I hold him responsible for 
the use he has made 'of the scissors in the consecutive extract of five 
octavo pages which he hai^ made ftrom Dr. Porter, and hen^e charges 
me with a * mistake.' The correction of this * mistake' is easy, as 
every reader knows ; for after three sentences from Dr. Porter, which 
the author of the Essay now objects to acknowledge, I give the follow- 
ing, in his own words, as a proof that he goes the whole with Dr. P. : 

* These are just such views as I would to God were engraven upon 
the heart of every member of the Methodist Episcopal Church.' Are 
these * his own words, or the words of another V Where then is the 
« mistake V 

But if La Roy Sunderland is seeking for * mistakes,' he may find 
them at home in abundance. For example, he says that in proof of 
one of his positions he referred to the Bible, and quoted chapter and 
verse, and that * I waive all reference' to the Bible, which every reader 
knows is untrue, since this expression is used in reference ^ to the 

* 67 a correipondent in the Western Chriftian Advocate, aa weU as in the 
Western Methodist, the Pittsbnrs^h Conference Joumal, and the Methodist 
Christian Sentinel, La Roy Sunderland may see how hie 'Esaaj' and mj 

* Strietures* are estimated. 

Vol. VI Jtdy, 1836. 30 



850 Thiologieal EdueaUvn. 

forced analogy he attempts betweeo the achools of the prophets and 
theological seminaries,' and not to the Bible. And again, it is to this 
same unauthorized analogy I refer, when I say it is * too puerile to 
need refutation,' and not of * Dr. Goodwin and Richard Watson,' as he 
alleges. But these are only examples of his * honest rules of inter* 
preting another's language.' The taunting sneer of the author, in 
professing to wait till I 'have read ecclesiastical history and the works' 
he names, entitles him only to my contempt. 

Once more : La Roy Sunderland complains that I attempt to show 
that he said that Wesley was not called of God to preach. I made 
no attempt of this kind, unless quoting his own words does so. I pro- 
ved that if Mr. Wesley was * made a minister in the very way precisely 
in which education societies make ministers,' that he was not a minis- 
ter after the conclusion of the process for several years, in his own 
estimation, nor had there, until then, been any * Divine agency' in the 
case. This every reader fully understands, and I forbear to repeat the 
evidence which he so ingeniously evades. 

But one more example of the * honest interpretation' and candor of 
La Roy Sunderland is found in his taking an extract from the fourth 
page of my / Strictures,' on the subject of the ^ scholastic divinity of 
ancient and modern schools,' such as those he names, and a pretended 
quotation from the fifth page, in which I say of * men-made ministers' 
whom I describe, that ' among those who glory in their theological 
training, instead of the cross of Christ,' there are found idlers and 
drones, who are a curse to the Church, &c. Now, between these two 
sentences there is no more proximity or connection, locally or senti- 
mentally, than there is between his essay and mine, and yet La Roy 
Sunderland places the one before the other, with the declaration that 
the latter is written before the writer ' stops to take breath,' and what 
is an act still worse than this deception itself, his quotation is fahe. — 
I give it as he falsely quotes it 

' Tkese very persons^ — observe, these very persons whom he ac- 
knowledges have had * inferior learning and extmordinary qualifica- 
tions' — * have been drones, &c.' Now the words italicised are not in 
the Strictures, and any reader will perceive that the commentary in- 
serted in his ellipsis is therefore utterly unfounded. Those of whom 
I pronounce this judgment are described in the following words, im- 
mediately preceding the sentence which he perverts and garbles : — 
* Young men who are unfit for any and every other occupation, or have 
fallen through in some more appropriate vocation, have been " trained" 
for the ministry, and having acquired the ** indispenaMe prerequisite," 
have been proclaimed as competent ministers, to the exclusion of their 
less learned, but more evangelical brethren ; and Christian Churches 
in our land by hundreds are now groaning under the burden of these 
men'tiMde ministers,' &c. These are the persons of whom the opin- 
ion is expressed which is most cruelly appropriated to men of ' superior 
learning and extraordinary qualifications,' by the dismembering above 
mentioned, and I blush for the author of so heinous an ofience, for 
which I have no name sufficiently abhorrent. As respects the charge 
that 1 contradict Richard Watson and the Wesleyan Magazine on the 
subject of Mr. Wesley's * seminary for laborers,' every reader knows 
that I confirm all that they have said, and demonstrate that neither 



Theological EduetUion. 351 

dmt nor the British institution would meet with opposition any where, 
it being entirely unexceptionable, and strictly Methodistical and evan« 
gelical. 

But I should extend my rejoinder too much if I were to particular* 

ize tile instances of similar perversion, or enumerate the examples of 

qwiatioiM from my Strictures, and others from his own £ssay, which 

ore not in ekher of iktm. And I will only invite the attention of the 

reader to the heaviest charge La Roy Sunderland brings against me, 

m, that of Meaving out of my quotation,' *for the purpo$e of changing 

the sense.' And what is the omission complained of? It is this, that 

ini]uotiDg a single sentence, complete in itself, for the purpose of cri* 

ticising its sentiment, I did not add thereto the whole paragraph and a 

subsequent one !' He might with as much propriety complain that I 

did not copy his whole essay including Dr. Porter's five octavo pages, 

and other fruits of the scissorSf with which instrument of composition 

he is so singularly skilled. 

But I forbear to pursue this * junior preacher' any farther, even in 
self vindication. If he did plead for theological seminaries in our 
Church, and if he did maintain all the erroneous sentiments attributed 
to him, surely he must now be excused on the plea of juoenility^ or 
puerility^ for he assures us he never ' intended it ! No never !' Indeed 
i rejoice to find that he has entirely retracted the doctrines of the Es* 
say, as I understood (hem, and as I know them to have been under- 
stood, by many of the best educated men in the Church, in the north 
and in the south, in the east and in the west. And as he now protests 
that he did not iniend to inculcate the anti-methodistical and anti-chris- 
tian heresies, of which I have convicted his Essay, we must all accept 
of his ' second edition,' and can only lament that his ' literary and theo« 
logical training' did not qualify him to express his sentiments in lan- 
guage less unfortunate and ill chosen, that he might have been spared 
the chastening under which he now writhes with so violent contortion! 
Let him be ^ patient in tribulation,' and it will * work experience,' which 
IB the best teacher* I take my leave of him therefore and the subject 
too, tor I ^ould never have written my * Strictures' on his Essay, had 
I suspected that he did not mean what he said. My ' zeal against 
theological seminaries,' in the Methodist Episcopal Church, however 
it may meet with sneers firom his * Christian courtesy,' will prompt me 
to reply to any man who advocates them, if his plea is published in any 
of the acknowledged periodicals of Methodism. 

Finally, in vindication of the reverend editor of the Magazine I 
would only add that La Roy Sunderland * calculates without his host' 
when he * considers the admission of my Strictures as an evidence ot 
the editor's willingness to have eveiy thing said by those opposed to 
HI8 viewB oo the subject of theological seminarie$,^ No one knows 
better the views of the editor on this subject than myself, nor am I 
opposed to his views on this point, as they have been fully and repeat- 
edly expressed by himself We differ in opinion on the subject of La 
Roy Sunderland's Essay, as the * caveats and disclaimers' accompa- 
nying the * Strictures' demonstrate, but the junior preacher will cease 
his glorying when he learns that my paper was published along with all 
the caveats and disclaimers with a mutual understanding, and that I 
did not scruple to send out my ' Strictures' surrounded on every side 



352 Geology.' 

by an editorial vindication of die author of the Essay, and the draw* 
backs on the plea of ^ misapprehension and severity.' I had no mo- 
tive but to correct error and elicit truth, and with the convictions of 
duty and sense of responsibility under which I write for the press, had 
the whole array of great names to whom he refers been marshalled 
with him in sohd column, I should not have shrunk from' the fearless 
and conscientious performance of my duty. And upon a review of my 
< Strictures' and all the garbling and misrepresentation of which I now 
, complain, together with the personalities to which I have been subjected, 
from the author of the Essay, I caunot regret a single step I have ta^ 
ken, a single criticism I have made. 'What I have written, I have 
written.' 

If our controversy shall prevent the future agitation of the question, 
and should the epitaph be written for theological seminaries among 
the Methodists, I shall rejoice to have contributed in any way to a 
burial, from which I pray there may never be a resurrection. 

^ David M. Reisb. 



From the Salem (MaMachuMtti) Luidmaik. 
GEOLOGY. 

Mr. Silliman commenced his fourth lecture on Friday evening of 
last week, with some additional remarks on trap rocks. He said 
the difficulty in regard to their formation might be .explained by th« 
supposition that they had been protruded from the bottom of the ocean. 
In the first chapter of Genesis it is stated that the earth was once a 
liquid mass : The Spirit of God moiled Uvon ih^face of the toaiers; 
and at a subsequent period the dry land is said to have appeared.*— 
Aside from the authority of Scripture, the geologist, from a simple ex- 
amination of the appearances of the earth, would infer that it had been 
submerged ; or in other words, that there had been a deluge. Had 
not the trap rocks been melted under an enormous superincumbent 
pressure like that of the ocean, they would exhibit a very different ap- 
pearance from their present one ; their surface n^ould have been infla* 
ted, intumescent, and scoriated. 

Marked chaises are produced by the trap on the rocks through 
which it passes. It turns coal into coke or charcoal ; it ciystalizes 
sulphur ; and turns clay sandstone into brick or jasper. The lecturer 
described columns of this rock, which are about two miles from the 
city of Hartford, Connecticut These columns rest on sandstone ; at 
the junction they are inflated' just as their whole surface would have 
been, had they not been melted under water. Mr. Silliman said it 
was impossible to explain the facts connected with the trap rock, but 
on the principle of fire that had once rendered it liquid.. 

He 'then proceeded to the history of the granite, the fundamental 
rock of the globe. With Broigniart's map he exhibited the different 
layers of rock as they exist in the crust of the earth. He illustrated 
the difference between stratified and unstratrfied rocks by reference to 
two loaves of bread, the one being cut info slices representing the 
stratified, and the other not cut representing the unstratified rocks.—- 
The origin of thb is from 6re and water. It was water that made the 



O$ology. 35a 

hyers* There were mechanical and chemical iniSuences m these 
foraiations. There was crystalization,' which is the result of cohesion 
from chemical solution. Some of the rocks were entirely subject to 
the chemical process ; others to the mechanical,; and others still to the 
two powers combined. 

GfBBite is made up of three substances, viz. quartz, consisting of 
silez, one of the most imperishable things in our world ; felspai;* not 
quite 80 hard as quartz, and composed of two-thirds silex, and the re- 
mainder alumine and alkali. Felspar is found in great abundance in 
Chester, Pennsylvania, and is manufactured into porcelain. The third 
substance ent^ing into the. formation of granite, is mica, or ising-glass, 
unlike ail other minerals, in being perfectly elastic. Of the three sub« 
stances constituting granite, quartz is gray, felspar white, and mica 
black. 

The ancients, were well acquainted with granite; Fompey's Pillar 
and Cleopatra's Needle were made of red granite. To determine 
whether a bed of granite will be durable for use, it is only necessary to 
see whether it has endured the effects of time* If it has not been de- 
composed where it has been exposed to the action of the weather, then 
it may be concluded it will prove good for building. The Quincy 
quarry is Sienite gnpiite. When mica is wanting in granite it is called 
Sienite. 

The position of granite is below all other rocks, though it occasion- 
ally rises above them all. Mount Blanc, Mount Washington, and the 
Rocky Mountains are granite. This rock is entirely crystalized. It 
is sometimes the surface rock, as any rock may be. 

No animal or vegetable remains are found in the granite, trap, ser- 
pentine, porphyry, or soapstone rocks. Hence they are called primi- 
tive, as Uiey are believed to have been formed before there were any 
animals or vegetables. To the granite family belong gniess and mica 
skte. Gnieas is an admirable rock for architecture, various in its ap- 
pearance, lying next to granite, and the first that is stratified. Mica 
slate is of the form of the leaves of a book, and is easily split, and is 
destitute of felspar. In this rock are found gems known by the names 
of beryl and garnet Granite, gneiss, and mica-slate are the founda- 
tion of the world. Most of the roclis in New-England belong to the 
granite family. 

Upon these ajre piled the common slate, of which the best for use 
should be distinguished by thinness, firmness, smoothness, and the ab- 
sence of foreign minerals. The best common slate is from Wales. — 
There is also the chloride slate, the homblend slate, the hone slate, and 
the talcose slate, which is soft and easily broken ; and there is also the 
nuignesia slate which some famishing inhabitants of savage countries 
are said to eat. Iron is found in the slate at Williamsburgh in this 
state. 

On closing his description of the slate, Mr. Silliman said he had 
gone through with the history of the primitive rocks, so called, because 
they are presumed to have been formed anterior to the other rocks.-—* 
As to the theory of their formation, he said that fire had had the princi- 
pal agency, that geologists considered them as the undoubted product 
of fire ; though the slaty and crystalized rocks should be regarded aa 
the joint production of fire and water. 

30* 



364 CMogf/. 

A part of the pnmaiy series is die stataaiy maible, or priimrj fime^ 
stone, which is most beautifully deposited in New*Englaiidy especially 
in Lanesborough and Sheffield, though it is very rare in old England* 
Beds of it are elegantly situated between the strata of gneiss and mica 
slate. Being in company with the primary rocks it is called primary, 
though composed of different materials from granite, haying calcareous 
limes and carbonic acid. 

Serpentine rock is so called from having the appearance of the back 
of a serpent. This rock is applied to cuUery by Mr. Ames of Spring* 
field, in a most beautiful and durable way. It is very different from 
limestone, though frequently associated with it ; it consists of silex and 
magnesia. In union with this asbestos, a fibrous, incombustible sub- 
stance, is often found. Asbestos was used by the ancients for the 
preservation of the ashes of the burned bodies of their departed rela- 
tives ; and it is likewise used by modems. It would make excelleat 
dresses for firemen. Yerd Antique marble is made up of limestone 
and serpentine. There is a quarry of this near New-Haven. Soap- 
stone forms beds in mica-slate ; it is magnesian, consisting chiefly of 
talc, and is most valuable for enduring fire. There is a large bed of 
it in Groton. 

In his fifth lecture on Monday evening of this week, Mr. Silliman 
mentioned that quartz was oflen crystalized, and was of all sizes ; and 
had doubtless once been soluble ; and indeed had been found actually 
melted. He said there was abundance of porphyritic granite and trap 
on Cape Ann, as he had ascertained by a ride thither die Saturday be- 
fore. He advised there should be added to the splendid East India 
Museum at Salem geological specimens. Porcelain clay was descri- 
bed as made of decomposed felspar. 

The Beverly rock the lecturer represented as remarkably interest- 
ing. It is near the bridge ; it has a basis of sienite, and dikes of trap 
five feet wide, with veins of felspar and quartz crossing each other ; not 
blended bat distinct. It is manifestly the effect of fire. 

The professor considered geology the grandest science next after 
astronomy ; the former having one advantage over ^e latter, in pre- 
senting' objects that can be handled, and seen with perfect distinctness. 

He was aware, he said, that he made a great demand on th^ confi- 
dence of his audience ; but he wished tbem to remember that He who 
made the world had no limits of time or space ; and therefore there need 
be no trouble about time in the first formation of the globe. He was 
addressing those who believed in God. If this t>elief were set aside, 
he would relinquish all farther examination into the structure of the 
world, and be for ever silent on every subject of science. The man 
who disbelieved in God, he regarded not as a rational being, but as a 
mad man. 

He said that quartz frequently formed a rock by itself; there ^was 
the granular quartz, which is in grains, and will not crack by heat. — 
Granite is sometimes cracked, but never stratified. There are masses 
pf decomposed granite and sienite on Cape Ann. 

Rocks lymg upon granite are stratified. In these are found fossils, 
which are the remains of plants and animals. The inference is, that 
there were no animals nor plants in existence when the rocks, having 
no such remains, were formed, which rocks have already been descri- 



ChoUgy. 855 

becl»aiid are all more or less ciystalized. Fire as well as water efiecta 
ciystaliaMtion ; aiHl t^e process has been seen to go on in volcanoes. 
It kas been objected that lime could not have been ignited^ because in 
that case it would have been turned into quick lime. Sir James Hall^ 
the father of the famous Captain Basil Hall, set aside this objection by 
actual experiment. He found that marble could be heated in a guil 
barrel without losing its carbonic acid. A simifair expermient, wMi a 
fltimkr resoltt has been performed on trap rock* 

IVofessor Silliman said he had now come to a period in our world 
where marks of violence were visible. By movement ill the water, 
rough, angular masses of rock are made smooth and round ; and 
these smooth, round substances are found in the itaterior of continents. 
The chores of New^-HoMand are strown with the topaz, k mineral next 
to the diamond in hanlness* The original materials were broken off 
and deposited by gravity. Thus jasper is discovered cemented by a 
paste df quartz. Such deposites must have come in after the primary 
rocks. They are remarkable for their elevations ; are found on the 
Catskill mountains. Afler being formed, they must have been raised 
bj internal fire. The pudding stone, or the conglomerate, is traced 
high up the Alps. 

The first evidence thit the formatioa of the globe was progressive» 
is the fact, that down in very deep rocks are fossils, the remaim of 
strange animals, embedded in solid masses. The trilobite, an animal 
that once swam in the water, may be seen in abundance at Trenton 
Falls. Almost all animals found in rocks have become extinct. It 
was the will of our Creator that the earth should be gradually prepared 
for the animials that were to live upon it There are traces of fossils 
even in the pudding stonie* 

The transition rocks are those which appear to be passing from one 
state into another. In these are vast numbers of animals now extinct* 
The early corals are remarkable. There are the living corals in the 
seas of all warm climates. In the production of the coral, the animal 
collects the lime from the ocean. These productions are of eveiy va* 
riety of form* The chain coral is found in the interior of our own 
countiy. It is found in £elds, in mountains, and in rocks ; some corals 
are silex, and some lime. These works of animals are sometimes 
built up into high mountains. In the southern seas there are reefs of 
coral a thousand miles long. They are first erected as walls against 
the wind. The animal never works above the water ; he brings up his 
establishment to the surface and there leaves it ; but birds and plants 
may add to its elevation ; still it must have been fire beneath that had 
raised them to the height which in many instances they have attained. 
The professor said there was good reason to believe the bottom of 
the ocean to be similar to the surface of the earth ; and as corab form 
parts of our mountains, the inference is, that this continent was once 
under the ocean. 

In limestone are vast caverns. The Mammoth Cave, in Kentucky, 
has been explored to the extent of ten miles without coming to any 
limits. Subterraneous rivers are also known to exist ; and the explo« 
sion of gunpowder in a cavern of Perbyshire, England, caused the 
rushing of a mass of waters through the interior region. 



366 FoooroUe 9igm of ik^ Tim§$* 

FAVORABLE SIGNS OF THE TIMES. 

Ir there be any one characteristic by which this age is distinguished 
from another, it is that of excitement ; and| generally speaking, an ex- 
citement on subjects that are intrinsicaUy good* It cannot be ex- 
pected indeed, as human nature is* that scarcely any excitement, how* 
erer good may be its objects, or however proper the means which aie 
applied to produce the emotion, should be free from all impurities, 
exempt from all excesses, or dbencumbered from all human infirmi- 
ties. When we consider the elements of which human society is 
formed, its liabilities to be moved to action under the'influence of 
impure motives, to be biassed and led into error by rash and precipi- 
tete judgments, and imperfect councils, we need not be surprised at 
finding many excesses to correct, errors to rectify, and numberless in- 
firmities to bear with. The wonder rather is, that, amid so many 
clashing interests, strengthened as these are by so much selfishness, 
pride, and obstinacy, there should be no more exhibitions of corrupt 
passions mingling themselves with, and disturbing the repose of human 
society. 

The mind of man is ever active. And at a time when there is so 
little of national animosities to call off and to concentrate the energies 
of one community toward another, by which the minds of men are lefr 
at liberty to act upon each other in opposite directions, to scan one 
another's motives and objects, there is much less of private bickerings, 
of tumultuous assemblages, and of rough dealing one witii another, 
dian we might reasonably expect. 

To what is this owing ? Doubtless to a moral and religious influ- 
ence. For some years past, there has been a gradual movement * upon 
the face of the waters,' and light, spiritual and intellectual light, at the 
command of God, has been difiiising itself over the congregated mass 
of human intellect, so that the dark chaos of human nature has become 
more and more enlightened, its natural asperities have become soft- 
ened, and its warlike propensities have been tutored to the principles 
of peace and good will, so far as to appreciate, in some good degree, 
the benefits of quietness and harmony among the several members of 
the human family. 

Several causes have operated to produce this effect — ^all originating 
primarily from that great .first cause of all good, God's great love to 
mankind, as developed in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Those who 
attribute this salutary revolution in the public mind to any one insula- 
ted cause, we think greatly err, * not knowing the Scriptures, nor the 
power of God' which has most obviously operated through the medium 
of a variety of causes, themselves the effects of the primary movement 
set in motion by the Hand that moves the world, to the production of 
that excitement which is now acting so beneficially on human society. 



FmvaraUe Signs oftlu ZVmen* M7 

To the poil^iffiil revival and rapid spread of pure religion, wiucb 

dates its commenceoient about the year 1780, we may attribate all 

tlioBe beaevoient institutions which are now, and have been for several 

yMirs, blessing ike world with their meliorating and saving influenees. 

It is not to the preaching of the Gospel alone, to the institution and 

AcAte operation of the Bible Societies, to the Missionary Societiest 

and other kindred institutions— it is not, we say, to any one of these 

phifainthropic institutions that we are to attribute tiie present altered 

state of the public miiid« bat to the combined influence of them «tf—- 

they ail are so many bright luminaries which God has created, and lit 

up, and fanng out, in the celestial firmament, to give light unto the 

worid«»lo ruh the world, until it shall be completely subdued to iie 

obedience of Jesus Christ The united influence of all these causest 

or means of operation, unless impeded in their progress by some un* 

toward occurrence, some strange fotality which ever hangs over the 

path of man, shall be miward, and onward, — until there shall be no 

place left, ^ either for error in rdigion, or for viciousness of life.' 

We do not wish to deceive ourselves nor be the instruments of do* 
ception to others, but we cannot help thinking that the present *• signs 
of the times' augur favorably to a more general spread of evangelical 
light and civil liberty, than has ever been witnessed in our world. 

1* In the first place the principles of civil liberty and religious tolera* 
tion are more generally understood and exemplified than at any time 
heretofore. The history of the world proves that a spirit of civil des- 
potism aQd religious persecution has always haunted maidund with less 
or more fury, spreading misery and death over the plains of human 
socie^, under the pretence of maintaining the rights of individuals and 
preserving the purity of the faith and uniformity in the modes of Di* 
vine worship. This is a fact so evident to the most casual observer 
that it needs no proof. It is among the lamentable evidences of hu- 
man frailty, if not indeed of the entire wickedness of man's heart, that 
no sooner did one sect, either of pagans or Christians, obtain domin- 
ion, than it persecuted all minor sects, inflicting upon them pains and 
penalties, merely because they would not subject their understandings 
and consciences to the mandates of the dominant party. 

In this respect the times are happily changed for the better. Moral 
and religious truth has been so far diffused as to banish those dark 
clouds of error from the intellectual and moral world. With few ex* 
ceptions, religious toleration, even in pagan countries, is granted to all 
Christian sects. From the frozen regions of the north to the torrid 
zone of the south— from the populous regions of the east, where 
Mohammedan despotism and pagan superstition and idolatry had so 
long wielded their leaden sceptres, to the barbarous climes of our west- 
em wilds — including all the intermediate latitudes and longitudes, with 
the exception of a few insulated spots which are blighted with the 



358 Fa/ooraiU Sigm ofOu Tmn. ^ 

reign of the * beast and the false prophet,' the feet of die missienBiy 
may tread without obetraction from *the powers that be/ and his Yoke 
may be heard echoing among their hills and valley/i to the soimd of 
saWation in the name of Jesus. And in this work he b permitted to 
bring to his aid all those auxiliary helps which are found in the distri- 
bution of the Biblot the circulation of tracts* the establishno^ent of Sab- 
bath schools, the promotion of the temperance cause* and the reaiiog 
up all those institutions of learning which always accompany every 
well-directed efibrt to save the sinner* and to elevate him to his proper 
rank in the scale of creation* 

This we consider no small achievement And let this good woric 
go on increasing every year with a ratio equal to thai which has distiiw 
gutshed it for some years past, and the spirit of intol«ance shall be 
driven from among men, to have its place only in the infernal regions, 
where it originated, and where it properly belongs. With this increase 
and diffusion of religious toleration, the principles of civil liberty, with 
all their train of attendant blessings, will be more and better under- 
stood. Already some of. the thrones of despotism, i^ch have long 
tyrannized over the consciences of mankind, are nodding to their feU ; 
and with them those ecclesiastical hierarchies^ which have been inter- 
woven in those civil despotisms, are likely to come to * a perpetual 
desolation.' These two * great lights' of civil liberty and religious 
tolerance are destined, in the providence of God, to enlighten the 
world. 

2. Another favorable sign appears in the increase of evangelical 
principles and piety among the several sects of Protestant Christians. 
Time was, and that not a century since, when the peculiar and distin- 
guished doctrines of the Gospel, such as the new birth, the witness 
and fruits of the Spirit, holiness of heart and life, the atonement by 
Jesus Christ, and all those truths and duties growing out of these^ 
were treated either with cold indifference, or total neglect, or with that 
contempt which is generally poured upon fanatical reveries, and that 
even by Protestant clergymen themselves. This was not all. Many 
of the clergy were open violators of God's law, card-players, horse- 
racers, dancers, and theatre-going men ; mingling indeed with all the 
frivolities of the age. Such was the low state of religion and morals 
at that period, that those practices were thought by most people to be 
no disparagement to any one, not even to a clergyman. 

This time has happily gone by. Were a clergyman, or even a pro- 
fessor of religion, now to exhibit that laxity in moral conduct which 
distinguished former times, he would hazard his reputation among all 
classes of men. But there is not only a reformation in moral conduct, 
but also a much more important one as regards the essential doctrines 
of the Gospel. Among all sects of Protestant Christians which are 
considered orthodoxi those doctrines are preached and enforced as of 



Fmdrahh Sigm of ik$ Timi. 359 

pmiiHNlDt Brtewflt The necetsi^ of repentaneey an abandonment 
of every rinfhl course, jdstification by faith in Jesus Christ, and holi- 
ness of heart and life, with all the attendant yirtoes of Christianity, are 
urged upon mankind from almost every pulpit in the land, among all 
seeti o( orthodox Christians. These things bring a vast concentra- 
ticm of infloence to bear down upon error and all sorts of vice, and also 
fives mighty impetus to the onward march of Gospel truth and holiness* 
S. As a necessary effect of this united effort in the cause of evan« 
gelical religion is the bringing the several sects of Christians nearer 
together in their views and feelings, and consequen^y producing a 
greater concentration of effort in the common cause. All that is 
waDting to produce the desirable object is, to induce all those who see 
alike on those cardinal points, to let minor differences on non-essential 
points be sunk out of sight, and all unite to defend, illustrate, and en- 
foree, with all the energy which an ardent attachment to the funda- 
mentals of Christianity naturally inspires, on all men the absolute 
necessity of experimental and practical religion. What could with- 
stand the shock that would be produced by such a united and simulta- 
neous onset upon the kingdom of darkness I 

And do not the ^ signs of the times' predict this auspicious period 
as not far distant ? It only remains for the evangelical sects to do 
their duty in order to bring it to pass. Let them cease to oppose 
eadi other on non-essential points, and let all minor matters l^e mer- 
ged in this one great consideration, the conversion of the world to Jesus 
ChfisL 

4. Another highly favorable omen is the mighty efforts which are 
put forth in the grand missionary cause, including Bible, tract, Sunday 
school, and temperance societies. What a mollifying influence do 
these efforts have upon the hearts of Christians ! And it appears to 
us that this work must go forward in despite of all the powers of earth 
and hell. The impression made upon the public mind already, by the 
combined operation of all these causes, is such as to carry a sort of 
resistless influence in favor of religion and morab, as well as in behalf 
of civil and religious liberty. Already these institutions stretch their 
arms to the four quarters of the globe, while their voices are liAed up 
on high at every point of the compass, crying in accents of warning 
and invitation, ^ Fear God and give gloiy to His name, for the hour of 
His judgment is come.' 

In this grand enterprise the whole Christian Church, including al- 
most all seets, are unitedly engaged. And surely before such a 
mighty phalanx, headed as it is by the God of battles, the strong holds 
of sin must give away, and soon a universal shout shall go up to 
Heaven, * Babylon the great is fallen ;' * the kingdoms of this world 
have become the kingdoms of God and of His Christ,' and therefore 
* He shall x&ga for ever and ever*' 



360 FmcorabU Signs of ike Tima. 

It IB true that wickecjnesf aboundi, and that the natural oppotitum 
of the corrupt hearts of men to the C^ospel manifests itself in a varietj 
of ways. But this is but a fulfilment of the [wophecy, that when ^ many 
should run to and fro, and knowledge he increased/ the * wicked 
iriiould wax worse and worse, and none of the wicked should uader- 
ataod.' The * brightness of his coming* always * reveab the man of 
sin ;' but the Mome brightness shall destroy it. And though the num- 
ber of the really righteous is comparatively small, yet the declaration 
that * one shall chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight,' 
assures us that His promise shall be accomplished in due time, ^ that 
all shall know ^e Lord from the least to the greatest' 

But while we indulge ourselves in this belief, we must remember 
that this desirable event is to be realized by the instrumentality of hu- 
man agencies. / Those who loiter at their post cannot participate either 
in the achievement itself or in its rewards. The whole Church there- 
fore must be aroused to a sense of her responsibility in this important 
matter. The Church indeed is the grand instrument by which tiie 
work is to be accomplished. To her is committed the sacred trust of 
converting the world to Christ. She is the * light of the world,' the 
«salt of the earth.* That the light of the truth may be clearly and 
widely diffused, all moral impurities must be washed away ; otherwise 
the light shines but dimly, and men are left to grope fheir way in the dark. 

There must also be a waking up to the exercise of faith to this veiy 
subject. This faith will lead to correspondent actions, and then, 'ac- 
cording to thy faith' it shall be done. One grand reason why this work 
does not go on with greater rapidity is, we are not looking, and pray- 
ing, and believing, for this very thing. We are satisfied with small 
things, and therefore God gives us small things in exact proportion to 
our faith. If aU Christians were taught to pray for a more mighty out- 
pouring of the Spirit, for a more rapid division of Grospel truth and 
holiness, who can doubt but that it would soon be witnessed I 

In the hope that these few remarks may tend to stir up a spirit of 
prayer for the conversion of the world, and to excite a vigorous faith 
in the promises of God which relate to the general extension of the 
Redeemer's kingdom, they are submitted to the reader. If, instead of 
disputing about minor matters, all were to engage hearliiy, and prayer^ 
fidbfy nxidfaithfuUy in this grand work, using all their strength in the ap- 
plication of those means which God has ordained, we should see greater 
things than we have ever yet seen. The * tall sons of Anak' would 
bow before the Lord, and mighty men of God would be multiplied into 
a host. And who could stand before this host? Let but die Church 
be presented before the world ' without spot or wrinkle,' with her armor 
on, and she shall go forth under her conquering Lord from one conquest 
unto another, until the * mountain of the Lord's house shall be estab- 
lished upon the top of the mountains, and all nations shall flow unto it*' 



) 






W. H^^*7:V.^,.i^lli^^,fMwlir* 



*> THE 

METHODIST MAGAZINE, 

AND ' 

■ ' ■ ' " - - -I ■ I ■■■■ , 

VpL. XVII, No. 4. OCTOBER, 1 835. New SuRiEg— Vol. VI, N*. 4, 

-^" . . ' _ -- 

A SERMON ON THE DIVINITY OF JESUS CHRIST. 

BT THE RBV. JOHN DBMPSTER. 

" Who being the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His per. 
800, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when He had by Him. 
•elf purged oar sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high." — 
Hebrews i, 3. 

This epistle to the Hebrews is a masterly production of a masterly 
mind. It sheds a light on the economy of God in the Jewish Church, 
which shines from no other source. It develops the deep import of 
the temple service, much of which would have otherwise remained 
enigmatical. The first chapter is an appropriate introduction to the 
whole epistle, and ^ for importance of subject, dignity of expression, 
harmony and energy of language, compression and yet distinction of 
ideas, it is equal if not superior to any other part of the New Tesli^ 
menu' {darkens Commentary.) The verse we have chosen for a 
text may be deemed the most lofty part of this astonishing chapter. 
It at once presents the mysterious person of our Redeemer in His two 
natures. It gives an elevated description of His Godhead^ by entitling 
Him the outbeaming of His Father's glory, the express image of His 
person, and the upholder of all things by the word of His power. It 
involves the necessity of His human nature, by ascribing to Him the 
purgation of our sins, and assigning to Him a seat at the right hand of 
the Divine majesty, to which, even in His human nature. He had 
mounted to effectuate, by His intercession, the lofty purposes of His 
mercy. We have therefore selected this text as an appropriate foun- 
dation of the arguments we intend to submit to you, in support of our 
Savior^s stmreme Divinity* 

After a few remarks on the term person, which occurs in the text, 
and has held a distinguished place in theology, we shall proceed to sus- 
tain our position by showing, 

I* That the works which are peculiar to Jehovah, are ascribed to 
Christ, 

II. That the worship which belongs only to Jehovah, is rendered 
to Christ. • . 

III. That the titles which can belong only to Jehovah, are appropri* 
ated to Christ^ 

IV. That the attributes by which the great Creator is known are 
claimed by the Redeem.er.. 

V% And finaliy» that the Gospel proceeds on the suppositioa that 
Christ possesses supi[em.e Divinity. 
Vol. YL— Oc/o6et* 1835. 31 



362 Sermon an the Divinitj of Jenu Christ. 

All the great truths we have stated in these propositions are ^ug. 
gested bv the (fiflferent parts of the short chapter before us. Immedi- 
ately before the text, the sublime achievement of erecting tiie frame 
of the universe is, in this language^ ascribed to Christ — *• "By whom 
also He made the worlds.' And in another part of the chapter we find 
the firmest support to our second proposition. The highest worship- 
pers in the heavenly world are called on, by the everlasting Father, to 
worehip the Son. When he bringeth in the first begotten into the 
world, he saith, ^ And let all the angels of God worship Him,'* And ia 
the next verse but one, we find proof of our third proposition, viz. in 
his paternal address, the Father appropriates to the Son that awful 
name by which Himself is known : ' Thy throne^ O God, is for ever 
and ever.' Here the title God is given to the Son, by Him who. alone 
knows all its mighty import. 

The cUtributes that belong to God are, by implication, .ascribed to 
Christ, by the text itself: It calls Him ^ the brightness of the Father's 
glory, and the express image of His person.' Now the proceeding 
rays which are here said to shine from the Father, must have the same 
nature as the fountain from whence they emanate ; and as He is said 
to be the express image of His Father's person, there must be in the 
one every thing answering to what there is in the other ; all the attri- 
butes ascribed to the one person must belong to the other, if He be 
the express image of the former. Finally, our fif\h proposition is an 
inference from the latter clause of the text. For if by Himself He 
purged our sins. He must have been the source of law to have thus met 
its unanswered claims : that is. He must have been God to have been 
capable of suffering meritoriously as man. Thus within the narrow 
limits of this brief chapter all these adorable perfections are implicitly 
or explicitly ascribed to Christ. 

Before we advance to the designed proof of our position, we shall 
make a passing, remark on the term person, which occurs in the text. 
This term has generally been used to express an individual substance 
of an intelligent nature ; and when so used it implies a separate being. 
Were it so used when applied to the Father, Son, and Spirit, it would 
signify three Gods. But the Scriptures most explicitly teach, what all 
Jews and Christians believe, that there is but one God ; apd at the 
same time they explicitly ascribe acts to the Father, Son, and Spirit, 
respectively, which characterize personality. The term is therefore 
used by Trinitarians to express distinct agerUs, but not separate agents, 
in the Godhead. From the nature of the case then, the term person 
has not in all respects the same meaning when applied to God, as when 
applied to man ; and this, indeed, is true of roost other words when 
applied to express what is peculiar to God. In the common use of 
the word we have been accustomed to contemplate per«ona/t7f^ only in 
connection with separation of being. But, by proper^attention to the 
subject it will be perceived that separation of being is merely an acci" 
dental circumstance, usually attendant on personality, but not necessa- 
rily arising out of personality. For ♦ the circumstance of separation 
forms no part of the idea of personality itself, which is confined to the 
capability oT performing peimsonal acts.' 'In God the distinct fer- 
sons are represented as^ having a common foundation in one being ; 
but this union also forms no part of the idea of personality^ nor can 



Sermim en Iht Dwiniiy ofJemi ChriH. 3i3 

be proved inconsistent with it. Considering then neither fifiton nor 
separtdion esdential to personalUy, but merely aeeidental to it, the ob- 
jection which the rejecters of our Lord's Divinity urge against the idea 
wiuch this term expresses must be powerless. The distinctness of 
person^ expressed by the pronouns I, thou, be, is essenticU to the per- 
sonal character, as ascribed to the Trinity. Thus we find the very 
frequent occurrence of these terms, both in the addresses of the Father 
to Uie Son, and in those of the Son to the Father, and by^the pronoun 
Hs our Lord generally speaks of the Holy Spirit. Likewise we and 
vs are repeatedly used in the Old Testament, when Jehovah speaks of 
Himsdf cU&ne. In using the term person, then, in this definite sense, 
no absurdity can be involved in maintaining that God consists in 
THREE as to PERSONS, and in only one as to being.* As then no 
one doubts the existence of the Father, or the unity of the Godhead, 
should we prove that Christ is the true Ood^ we shall have thereby 
proved that more than one person exists in one being* 

We shall now proceed to lay before you some of the evidences and 
arguments by which we prove. 

First, That the works which are peculiar to Jehovah are ascribed 
to Christ. 

That the creatioh of the heavens and the earth, with all they con« 
tain, is claimed in the Old Testament by Jehovah, we need not detain 
you to prove ; for none can have read the Jewish Scriptures without 
knowing that the supreme God there distinguished Himself from all 
other beings, by His claim to have created aU things that exist. Now 
should we find this great claim asserted by, and accorded to Christy in 
the Scriptures, the conclusion will be, what God claims to the exclu- 
sion of all else in the universe belongs to Christ ; and that therefore 
Christ is Grod. By adverting to the first chapter of John's Gospel, we 
will find the work of creation ascribed to Christ, in the most express 
language that could have been employed. * In the beginning was the 
Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God ; all things 
were made by Him, and without Him was not any thing made that 
was made.^ Here it is affirmed that the Word was in the beginning, 
that it was with God in the beginningj that it was God, that all things 
were created by it ; all things, in the most comprehensive sense, for 
without the Worc2, was not any thing created i}asX was made. Now 
should the term made be understood to signify nothing more than 

* The question often propoanded is, Can three be but one, or can one be 
thTee,^while it remains still but one 7 But the question identifies the two di^reat 
senses, in which the terms <ni9 and three are used ; and by doing this, it creates 
~thtt absurdity which it groundlessly charfi^es en Trinitarians. They use the term 
one to sigD^ a being, and three^ to signify the hopes in which a being exists.-— 
Were thes^ terms so use4 ab to imply three beings in one being, or three per. 
SONS in OMre person, they would state what no rational being could believe ; for 
no one anderstanding the terms could believe that three things made but one of 
the three ; or that one thing made three like itself^ any more than he bould believe 
that the whole is greater than oil its parts, or that a part is as great as the whole. 
But when person is used not to express a separate Being, only a mode of the Divine 
ej^ittence, it can involve no absurdity to affirm of three persons that they are but 
one being ; or of one. being, that he exists in three persons. Now this plain distine- 
tion between a person and a separate 6etng— between a being that simply ha« ex- 
istence, and the modes, in which it exists, obviates all objections urged on the 
ground of confounding numbers, and leaves our way unobstructed in which we 
are to proceed in sustaining the fact thus stated. 



.364 Sermon an the DieinUy of Je$us ChruL 

arranging and setting in order the new dispensation, as the Soeinians 
contend, it convicts the Evangelists. of this ^pitiful truism,' that Christ 
did nothing in establishing His religion which He did not do. . But when 
this passage is taken in connection with several that follow it, how is 
it conceivable that any can understand it as signifying less than ere- 
ating the physiccU world ? For here it is asserted that the world was 
made by Him ; that very world into which He came as a^ light ;' that 
very toorld m which He ^ was made flesh ;' that same tuorld which ' re- 
ceived Him not.' Now if it be asserted that the words, *■ the world was 
made by Hifn,' mean a moral renewal, it must either be maintained that 
the natural world has been morally renewed by Christ, or that the 
world, here meaning men, ^vas morally renewed by Christ, and yet did 
not receive Him ; either of which would be too absurd to argue against. 

Thus these efforts, and the most strenuous that have been made to 
make the beginning of the Gospel teach any thing but the supreme 
Divinity of Christ,' end in the confusion of the system they aim to sup- 
port. But let us view still more narrowly the passage in question. — 
By this text we understand that nothing was made but by the Word, 
which was in the beginning with God. This shows it impossible that 
the « beginning' should refer to any lat^r period, than the first moment 
M'hen the creation began to arise ; otherwise the Word by whom the 
creation was made, would have acted before it existed. It teaches the 
Word was never Created, for it declares without Him — ^tfie Word — 
was nothing made that was made ; if, therefore, the Word was crea- 
ted, it created itself that is, it acted before it existed, which is impossi- 
ble. The text then teaches that the Word is uncreated. 

Now as there con be no possible existence between that which was 
created^ and Him who always existed, to the Word must belong an 
unbeginning existence. Hence the peculiar sense fixed on the ex- 
pression ' the Word was with God ;' with Him as no other being can 
be ; with Him in creative power; with Him in uncreated essence ; with 
Him so as to be Godt 

But if this passage in John's Gospel ascribes the whole physical 
creation to the power of Christ, and thereby proves him to be the tin- 
created the eternal God, one in the epistle to the Colossians does it 
no less explicitly — * For by Him were all things created that are in 
heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they he 
thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers, all things were crea- 
ted by Him, and for Him, and He is before all things, and by Him all 
things consist,' Col. i, 16-17. In these two verses 3iere are four facts 
stated of Christ, each one of which could characterize none but 
the Supreme Being. 1st. It is affirmed that by Him were all things 
created that are in heaven and that are on earth. By using nearly 
the same language adopted by Moses where he informs us that * God 
created the heavens and the earth ;' the apostle evidently intended to 
designate Christ as the God of which JMoses speaks. Now as it is 
impo^ible that each of two beings should have creaited the same hea- 
vens and earth, and as Moses ascribes this work to God, and the apos- 
tle to Christ, the conclusion is irresistible that Christ is God. But the 
apostle is both more comprehensive and more particular than the his- 
torian ; Moses ascribes to God in this passage only what is corporeal ; 
the apostle ascribes to Christ all this, together with all incorporeal 



Sermon on the DivinUy o/Jetui Chri$L 365 

exutonces : not only all tbing» visible, but likewise ail fbiags invisi- 
ble, all the hierarchies of the heavenly wodd ; ascending through all 
the ranks of angelic natures, he showed them to be but beams of 
ChrisVs brightness. Thus in the immense embrace of his expression 
the apostle mcludes all worlds and all natures. . 2d. But lest the 
mudity work of giving existence to all that -has being should be impu- •• 
tecrto power with which Christ was delegated, the apostle assures us 
that all things were created for Him ; that He is not only the creator 
but the proprietor of all worlds. Could He have acted as an instru- 
ment, the creation He formed would have belonged to Him who em- 
ployed the instrument — to Him who communicated the power to create. 
But as all &B>gs were made for Him, He must always have been 
enrobed with creative power, Rom. i, 20. The apostle proceeds to 
state that He is btfors all things ; before all the things that He had 
created, before aE things that were ever created, otherwise He could 
not have created all things. Had He been created^ the text could not 
be true^ that all the visible and invisible, in heaven and earth, matter 
and spirit, were created by Him. Nor could it be true that He was 
before all things that were created ; for were He a created being, as 
the rejecters of His Divinity contend, the text would make Him exist 
before He existed. And this is one of those absurdities in which that 
class of men is unavoidably involved. But it is added in this passage, 
that 'by Him do all things consist.* Here the same by ^hom all 
things were created, the same for whom all things were created, the 
same who was before > all things — is the very same by whom all 
things consist. By the word o/^His power the mighty fabric of all 
worlds is borne up : men and angels, all that has Jife, live and move 
in Him. 

I know not that in all the Divine records a higher ascription of 
almighty power is made to the oninipotent God than is here made to 
Jesus Christ. 

As then the whole creation is ascribed to Christ, and as St. Paul 
informs us, Rom. i, 20, that the eternal power and Godhead are clearly 
seen in the creeition, that eternal power and Godhead must belong to 
Christ. But if a created being could have made the world, the apos- 
tle cannot Jt>e correct in stating that it is a standing proof of eterwd 
power ottd Godhead ; for then it would not show forth the Godhead of 
the eternal, but merely the powers of the creature. 

But not only building and sustaining the creation are ascribed to 
Christ, but the removal of the material universe is also to be etfected 
by His power. In the first chapter to the Hebrews the Father «ays 
to the Son, * And thou Lord in the beginning laid the foundation of 
the eatth, and the heavens are the work of thy hands : these shall perish, 
but thou remainest ; and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up, and 
they shall be (Ranged.' Here unbounded power is seen changing, 
removing, and wrapping together the whole universe of material diings, 
with the same ease and majesty with which it first raised them from 
nothing, arranged their materials, and sustained the fabric. And all 
this incommunicable power is, by the mouth of the Father, ascribed 
to Christ Now, if God and Christ are not the same Beings as Christ 
is declared the -creator of all things, God can have created nothing ; as 
all things were made tor Christ* God possesses nothing ; as all thing* 

31* 



366 Sermon im the IHoinUy of Juut Ckriit. 

consist by Christ, God upholds nothing. "Ay this system, therefore, 
the adorable Jehovah'is robbed of His whole empire. He can deserve 
no worship from any being, for He is neither the author, upholder, nor 
proprietor of any. 

But not merely do the great works of making, presenring, and finally 
removing the material universe, properly belong to Christ ; but also 
such a control of the elements of nature, the power of death, and the 
spirits of darkness, as prove Him supreme. 

That the power of working miracles was His own cannot be doubted 
when we attend to the facts, that He wrought them in His own name ; 
when He restored to life the widow's son, His language was, * Young 
mail, / say unto thee, Arise ;' when He called pdtrefied Lazarus from 
the grave, whose power did He invoke 1 whose name did He use but 
His own? ' Lazarus, come forth,' was sufficiently efficacious to raise 
his corpse from the tomb, and c^all his spirit from eternity. That this 
was an original power of His own, appears also from His having 
bestowed it on His disciples, Luke x, 12« * Behold I give you power 
to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, 
and nothing shall by any means hurt you.' Luke xi, 1, * And He gave 
them power and authority over all devils, and to cure diseases.' Thus 
the power of working miracles He expressly reserves to Himself. 
* In my name shall they cast out devils.' * Hie name^ through faith in 
His name, hath made this man strong.' The prophets wrought stu- 
)>endous miracles, but they never did attempt them in their own name. 
It was not Moses, but the rod of God, that so controlled the elements 
of nature. The apostles wrought miracles that blazed through a whole 
' age, but they were shocked if any thought of ascribing them to their 
own ^ power or holiness.^ All the wonder-working men that wrought 
miracles in any age acted then not as agents, but merely as instru- 
ments. Of all the beings that have ever appeared among jnen, Christ 
alone has ever pretended to work * the ivorks of His Faiher.\ 

Another act of Christ demonstrative of His Godhead is, His having 
given the Holy Spirit. ' If I go away I will send the Comforter.' — 
This is the language of one possessing the original right to send forth 
the eternal Spirit — to communicate that miracle-working power that 
wrought all the deeds of a God. It is also said of the Spirit, * whom 
the Father shall send ;' but Christ claims to do the sam^ : * The 
Comforter whom / will send unto you.' « Therefore being by the right 
hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of 
the Holy Spirit, He hath shed forth this which ye now see and hear.' 
Thus the Holy Ghost is called indifferently the Spirit of Christ and 
the Spirit of God. 

The prerogative to forgive sins, which belonged to Christ, proves 
Him to be God. A man or angel may be commissioned to announce 
the principles on which the eternal Sovereign will forgive sin, but no 
created being can possess the right to pardon it. The party offended, 
alone, can obviously possess the right to pardon the offender ; for if 
' sin is the transgression of the law ojfGod,* He is the object offended. 
What is it then for a mere creature to forgive stn, but to take in his own 
hands the rights of the infinite Jehovah 1 It is not questioned whether 
the Supreme Being can reveal to His servants the fact of another's 
pardon, and they declaratively pronounce that pardon ; but this is no 



Sermon im ihe Dhiniiy of J€$m Chriti. ^ Z67 

more authorUaiively granting pardon, than it is to usurp Jehovah's 
throne. To I|iin who is the Mource of /oto, which sin viohites — the 
HHtkor of that governmeQt on which it tramples— to Him tUone it can 
belong aulkoriiatively to pardon it. Now, in thia very manner we 
find Christ forgiving sin. He said to the sick of tiie paby, ' Son, he of 
good cheer, thy sina be forgiven thee.^ But when the scribes charged 
Christ with blaspheming because He thus assumed the prerogative of 
God, did' our Lord retract, — did He attempt to correct dieir mistaken 
view of His pretensions ? Directly the reverse ! He proceeded to 
support His. claims lo Divinity in the very light they had considered 
Him' making those claims. * But that ye may know that the Son of 
man hath power on earth to forgive sine ; then said He to the sick of 
the palsy, *« Arise, take up thy bed and go to thine own bouse." ' — 
Here was a miracle wrought, unquestionahly, to prove Himself pos- 
sessed of power to forgive sins. He therefore was the source of law.^ 
He was the party offended* He was' God. ^ 

May we be permitted now to call your attention to the fact, secondly, 
That die worship which belongs only to Jehovah is rendered to Christ. 
It is a fact, of which no reader of the New Testament can remain 
igqorant, that instances are frequently occurring there, of persons pros- 
trating themselves in worship before Christ. - But attempts have been 
made to show that as in the east prostration before civiK rulers was 
a common practice, so its being paid to Christ can furnish no proof 
of His Divinity. But* nothing can be plainer than that Christ 
never receivA worship as a civil governor, for He most cautiously 
avoided giving the least sanction to the idea that he had any civil pre- 
tensions. Now in the midst of all this care to excite not the least sus- 
picion that He aspired at civil distinction, what inconsistency could be 
more glaring than habitually to receive worship, like a civil governor? 
yet wtere is a hint in all the Divine record of His ever refusing to 
receive homage, where His worshippers rendered it to Him t The 
leper came and ^worshipped Him.^ The man cured of blindness said, 

* Lord, I believe, and worshipped Him*^ They came and worshipped 
Him, saying, * Thou art the Son of God,' Matt, xiv, 33. In none of 
those instances, or any other, did Christ intimate that worship was 
inappropriately paid to Him, but taught that all men should * honor the 
Son even as they honor the Father.' But to obviate all objections 
against the worship which our Lord received being Divine, we need 
only to state the fact, that it was rendered to Him after He ascended 
to heaven. * He was parted from them, and received up into heaven, 
and they worshipped Him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy,' 
Luke xxiv, 51^ 52. The worship here mentioned could not have been 
o^red as a token of civil respect, because it was rendered after He 
was parted from them ; after He was to show Himself in person to 
them no more on earth. That the homage of prater is rendered to 
Christ, as to God, a very few quotations will convince us. * Lord 
Jesus,' prayed dying Stephen, * receive my Spirit.' *Lord,' said he, 

* lay not this sin to their charge.' In the former he acknowledges 
Christ to be dispenser of the eternal states of men ; in the latter he 
recognizes Him as the Governor and Judge of men, having power to 
remits pass by, or visit, their sins. This prayer of Stephen to Christ 
acknowledges His property in spirits no less than the prayer of Christ 



368 Sermon on ihe IHifkmiy of Je$n§ CkriMt 

acknowledges His Father's property ia spirits — ^ Father* into thy hand 
I commend my spirit' 

St. Paul's prayer to be delivered from the thorn in his flesh was evi- 
dently addressed tp Christ. * He said unto me, My grace is sufficient 
for thee : for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly 
therefore will I glory in my infirmities* that the power of Christ maj 
rest upon me.' Here strength and power are the same word in the 
original. He to whom he prayed said, My strength is sufficient for 
you ; but this strength or power the apostle caUs Christ's ; therefore it 
was Christ to whom he prayed. '. But, leaving unnoticed numerous 
instances of prayer to Christ, we will only advert to one more expres- 
sion of it, found in Corinthians : ' Unto the Church of God which is at 
Corinth, called to be saints, with all that in every place call upon .the 
name of Jeeue Christy our Lord, both theirs and ours.' Here the 
apostle states •that the Church at Corinth, as well as others in evert/ 
place^ call on the name of Christ, The supreme homage of prayer was 
therefore rendered to Christ, through ail the apostolical Churches. 

Supreme ascriptions of everlasting glory and praise are perpetually 
made to Christ by the inspired writers. Among numberless passages 
adducible to this point, those only that follow shall be selected. * But 
grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus 
Christ, to whom be glory both now and for ever,' 2 Peter iii, 18. — 
« Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins tn his own 
blood, to Him be glory and dominion^ for 'e^er* and ewer.' ^hese 
ascriptions of eternal glory and everlasting dominion are' surely appro- 
priate to none but God, and would involve the grossest idolatry to be 
rendered to any created being. IVhen the highest benediction is era* 
ved, Christ is associated with the everlasting Father : * The grace of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the 
Holy Ghost, be with you. all.' * Grace to you, and peace from God 
our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.' These, with little variation, 
are the forms of benediction habitually adopted by the apostles, in which 
Christ and the Father are represented as being equally \h& source of 
those highest blessings for which an inspired mind could pray. The 
Father and the Son must therefore equally possess ihosQ supreme per« 
fections which alone could originate these blessings. 

And indeed there is no fact come down to us from the first ages of 
Christianity, better authenticated than the fact that Christ was then 
worshipped by the whole Church. Heathen authorities in support of 
this fact, might be numerously adduced ; but to advert to the famous 
letter of Pliny to Trajan, where the fact is expressly stated, is sufficient. 
All the Arians likewise, of the fourth century, who believed Christ 
superangeiic in His nature, with respect to worshipping Him, imitated 
the general Church. But supreme adoration to Christ is not confined 
to the Church on earth ; it is offered to Him by the angels of God, and 
the spirits of the just, in the highest heavens. For He saith, *■ Let all 
the angels of God worship Him.' And in the Revelation the whole 
unfallen and redeemed universe are heard to make supreme ascriptions 
to the Lamb : « And every creature which is in heaven, and on the 
earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are 
in them heard I saying, Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, to 
'Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb^ for ever and ever,' 



Strmon an the Diviniiy of Jesus Christ. 369 

Rev. V, 13. Here, in the immediate presence of the Father, at the 
very foot of His throne, and amid the glories of His person; His ado- 
ring host pay.no other homage to Him that sitteth on the throne than 
they render to the LtAMB, Now in turning to the Old Testament, we 
find woriship prohibited to any being in any world, excepting^ Jehovah, 
under the m6st dreadful penalty. * Thou shalt have no other gods 
before me.' *Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve 
them,' £xod. xx, 3-5. Christ Himself enforced the same prohibition : 
* It is written. Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only 
shalt thou serve,' Matt, iv, 10. ' He that sacnficeth unto any god, 
save unto the Lord only, he shall be utterly destroyed,' £xod. xxii, 
20. The inspired apolstles were Jews, and viewed religious wbrship 
as such. Idolatry had not for centuries affected their nation ; and, as 
we have seen, their law was awfully strict in prohibiting any thing like 
religious worship to all but Jehovah. And they lost no occasion to 
insist on the great principle of exclusive worship to Him. When Cor- 
nelius would worship Peter, he -hesitated not a moment to refuse it.-*- 
When those of Lystra would pay religious honors to Paul and Barna- 
bas, they instantly forbade it, and shrunk with horror from the very 
attempt. When St. John (Rev. xix, 10) fell at the feet of a heavenly 
inhabitant, the angel interdicted even an outward act of religious 
homage, and insisted on the great rule and maxim^ ^ Worship God.' 
But with the fulminations of that law in their ears, which forbade wor- 
ship to any in the whole universe but to God alone, the apostles «klo- 
red Christ ; in that world where no note of the eternal song is raised 
but to Jehovah, all the angelic and redeemed hosts adore the Messiah, 
with that dreadful interdict dropping from His lips, « Him only shalt 
thou serve.' Christ received Uie highest worship from His adoring 
disciples ; the Church therefore on earth, while under the full blaze of 
inspiration, and the angels in heaven before the eternal Majesty, must 
have been the grossest idolaters^ or Jesus Christ is the supreme God. 
He Himself could never have taught that * all men should honor Him 
as they honor the Father,' unless He and the Father are one Being. 

The next evidences of our Savior's Divinity to which we shall refer, 
will be adduced to support the fact. 

Thirdly, That the titles which can only belong to Jehovah are ap- 
propriated to Christ. 

God says, * t am Jehovah : that is mj name, and my glory I will 
not give to another.' ' I am Jehovah : and there is none else, there is 
no God beside me.' Thou yhose name alone is Jehovah, art the 
most high over all the earth.* Here the great God -appropriates this 
name to Hincrself, to the exclusion of all other beings in the universe. 
Though in a few instances this name is found connected with persons 
and places, yet it is not descriptive of those persons or places, but 
merely of the events connected with them ; which events are intended 
to mark the interposition of God. It is one thing for a name to be so 
given as to describe the Divine interposition in a place, or in behalf 
of a person ; and it is another very different thing to make it descrip^ 

* Whera the word m the original Hebrew is Jehcvah, our translators have usu. 
ally written it LORD, in capitals, to distinguiish it from another word in that Ian- 
guage whieh is alse rendered Lord, but it frequently applied tojcreatures ; it will 
be perceived thi^t we use the word Jehovah as they have sometimes, and should 
have always left it. 



370 Sermon on the Diviniiy of Juu9 Ckriit, 

five p( the penon bearing the name. Now in this latter sense the 
name Jehovah is found apphed to no created being. If then it is so 
applied ta Christ by Divine authority, He must be uncreated — must be 
God. That it is so applied to Him, but few quotations Are needful to 
show. St Matthew quotes and applies to Christ the third verse of 
the 40th of Isaiah, ' For this is He that was spoken of by the Prophet 
Esaias, saying, The voice of one crying in the wilderness. Prepare ye 
the way of the Lord, make His paths straight,' Matt, iii, 3. The 
other evangelist makes the same application to this prophecy, repre« 
senting John as the herald of Jesua, whom the prophet called Jehovah. 
Indeed nothing can be plainer than that He whom the prophet calls 
Jehovah, is that Jesus whom the evangelist calls the Lord, Jesus^ is 
therefore Jehovah. There is no doubt but the title Lord is oflerr used 
in the New Testament in a subordinate sense ; but whenever the wri- 
ters of this Testament apply it to Him whom the Old Testament calls 
Jehovah, they can but use it in that high sense in which it would be 
blasphemy to apply it to any but to the Creator. In this sense it is 
most unquestionably used in the passage before us. Also in Luke, 

* And many of the children of Israel shall He turn to the Lord their 
God, and he shall go before Him in the spirit and power of £lias/ 
Luke i, 15-17. Hm, beyond all question, refers to the Lord their 
God. Christ therefore, before whom John shall go, is He whom the 
prophet calls Jehovah^ their God.. St. Paul makes a similar applica- 
tion of this ineffable name to Christ, * Whosoever shall call on (be name 
of the Lord shall be saved,' Rom. x, 13. There is a quotation from 
Joel, where the prophet says, ^ Whosbever shall call on the name of 
Jehovah shall be delivered,' Joel ii, 32. As St. Peter applies this 
prophecy to our Savior, the * Lord' mentioned by the apostle must be 
Christ, whbm the prophet therefore calls Jehovah. Now should we 
show th^t God claims the name Jehovah, so as to deny it to all other 
beings^ having shown that it is Divinely applied to Christ, we shall 
thereby prove that Christ is the Supreme God, ^ And I appeared unto 
Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacobs by the name of God Almighty ; 
but by my name Jehovah was I not known to them,' Exod. vi, 3. — 

* That men may know that thou, whose name alone is Jehovah, art 
the most high over all the earth,' Psa. Ixxxiii, 18. Here the name 
Jehovah is denied. to all other beings, and declared to belong to God 
ALONE. Having then shown that inspiration applies it to Christ, He, 
most certainly, mul^t be the supreme God. 

It is certain that in the New Testament the term Ood is never ap- 
plied to any man : yet, in its highest sense, it is applied to Christ. — 

* And they shall call His name Immanuel; which, being interpreted, is 
God with ««,' Matt i, 28. • And the Word was God,' John i, 1 ; God 
in the highest possible sense, because without the Word wsls not any 
thing created that was made. The Word was therefore God, the 
Creator, * In His Son, Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and 
eternal life,' 1 John v, 20. f In Him dwelleth all the fulness of the 
Godhead,' Col. ii, 9. • Who is over all, God blessed for ever/ 
Rom. ix, 5. For *He thought it not robbery to he equal with God/ 
Phil, ii, 6. Whenr^e Jews charged Him with making ' Himself equal 
with God,' He therefore intended they should so understand His claim. 
This list of quotations might be vastly lengthened ; but these are suifi- 



sermon on ik$ IHvi$iiiy ofJuus ChrUL . 371 

pient, as they almost all associate the term God, hs applied to our * Sa- 
Tior, mth other titles and circumstances which demonstrate most fully 
that the term was used by the inspired penman in its highe$t aeiMe of 
true and proper Deity when they applied it to Christ' In these and 
similar passages the .term is associated with Jehovah ; with acts of 
creative energy; with supreme dominion^ with eternal life, and with 
teriqs that' distinguish His human nature from His Divine nature; such 
as that selected from the epistle to the Romans, * Of whom concerning 
the flesh Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for ever*' 

How could- the New Testament writers use terms better adapted 
than these, to .mislead the minds of men, and plunge all following 
generations in the deepest idolatry, if they did not intend' to teach the 
supreme Godhead of Christ ? Let us add to these evidences. 

Fourthly, The arguments which prove that the attributes by which 
the great Creator is known, are ascribed to and claimed by Christ 

All that is knowp to us of God, as to His essence, is, that He is a 
Spirit But of His attributes He has spoken to us more largely. — 
Beside His moral attributes, which Ho a limited extent are comnmnica- 
ble, He possesses what ar^ called ncUurcU perfections ; the high 
and awful' attributes, omnipotence, omniscience, omnipresenc,e, eternity, 
and a.11 others without which these could not invest Him : these, from 
their very nature, must for -ever be incommunicable. Theiefore, if all 
these, or any one of them, be Divinely ascribed to Christ,. He is thereby 
proved to be the only God of which creation or Revelation speaks. 
For nothing can be more indubitable than that no one infinite attribute 
can esnst alone : if it could, there might be as many infinite beings as 
there are infinite attributes. But as one infinite attribute necessarily 
supposes a capacity for all othef's, it is absurd to suppose there can be 
more than one being possessing such capacity. For to suppose more 
than one is to make all others merely a mental repetition of that one. 

If, therefore, the Scriptures ascribe one infinite Mribute to Christ, 
they thereby make Him the supreme God. 

But it will appear in the sequel that all the attributes by which Je- 
hovah has made Himself known, invest Jesus Christ. 

Etkrnitt is ascribed to Him : ' Unto us a child is born ; His name 
shall be called the mighty God, the everlasting Father,' Isa. ix, 6. — 
That Christ is the subject of this description, admits of no question ; 
not that He is the everlasting Father in his relation to the other per- 
sons in the Trinity, but only in relation to all else that exists ; as all 
else is the offspring of His power. 

To settle the question for ever, whether eternity belofigs to Ch'tst^ 
nothing more can be needful than to find it claimed by Him in the 
same language in which Jehovah claims it. Now this very thing is 
done in these scriptures : * I am the first, and the last, and beside me 
there is no God. Before me was there no God formed, neither shall 
there be afler me,' Isa. xlv, 6, and xlviii, 10. ' I,' says Christ, * am the 
first and Utst ; I am He that liveth and was dead ; Jllpha and Omega, 
the beginning and the end, ihe first and the last,^ Rev. i, 17. Concern* 
ing Christ it is said, * Thou Bethlehem, Ephratah, though thou be little 
among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall He come forth 
unto me that is to be ruler in Israel ; whose goings forth have been 
from of old, from everlasting,* Micah v, 2. Of Jehovah it is said. 



373 Sermon on ike Divimiy of J$$u$ Chfiii* 

* From everlastiiig to everlasting thou art God/ Psa. xc, 2. The 
self-exMtenee and eternity of Jehov^ are revealed in this pecuUar 
language, ' I am that I am,' Exod. iii, 14. Evidently with an eye on 
this expression our Lord declared, * Before Abraham was, I am,' John 
viii, 68« Thus grasping the past and the future^ Christ, like the infi- 
nite Jehovah, pervades ail duraiion. Now, what could be more mis- 
ieading to men, and more blasphemous in Christ, than so repeatedly 
to claim eternity, in the vcJry expressions almighty God had done, 
were He not the etertuU One ? for certain it is t)iat if any eternal being 
is revealed to us in these oracles, Christ i^ ihaiunbeginning existence. 

Now, the impossibility of communicating this attribute to any being 
who has not altoayt possessed it, will appear from this single l-eflection, 
it makes Him begin to 6e, who never began to be ; that is, it assigns 
existence to Him before He possessed it. For, if He can now be 
eternal who was not always so,. He must have existed when He did 
not exist, which is impossible ; if then, that which had a beginning 
cannot become that which had no beginnings the Scriptural ascription 
of eternity to Christ proves Him to be the uncreated God. 

Omnipresence likewise invests Him. This ubiquity, or power of 
extending Himself over the whole universe, belongs to God alone^ yet 
it enrobes our great Redeemer. ' No man,' says Christ, * hath as- 
cended up to heaven but He that came down from heaven, even the 
Son of man, which is in heaven,' John ill, 13. 'Where two or three 
are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them,' 
Matt, xviii, 20. ' Lo I am with you alway, even to the end of the 
world,' Matt xxviii, 20. In the first of thesQ passages Christ declares 
Himself to be in that heaven from which* by becoming incarnate. He 
represents Himself as having come down ; and ther^, too, at the same 
time while He was on earthy in the midst of His disciples. In the 
next text He promises to be present, over the whole globe^ wherever 
two or three are met together in His name. There may be created 
spirits that can dart with lightning speed from place to place, and so 
in a brief period visit, successively, all, worshipping assemblies on the 
footstool; but this would not fulfil the promise we are considering: 
' There am /,' not ha/{oe 6een, and shall be, which are the utmost within 
the power of every created being. In our third quotation He engages 
the apostles His attendance on them aU at aU h'mes : * alway to the end 
of the world.' This would be impossible to any creature in the uni- 
verse ; any but God nmst leave one to go to another ; must be absent 
from all others when present with one. He' that can be with twelve 
apostles at the same time^ while whole continents separate them, can be 
at the same time with aU other bSings. 

Now this all-pervading power is, by St Paul, expressly attributed 
to Christ : < by Him do all things consist' As no being can act where 
it is not, and as Christ upholds all things, He must be present with all 
things. As He is the great conservator of all things, He can be absent 
from none. But if Christ is present with every being, if He fills hea- 
ven, and earth* and the whole universe. He must be wherever the Father 
is ; He and the Father must therefore be the Supreme Being. 

Omniscience also belongs to Christ: though it is impossible for us 
to determine to what extent the knowledge of the highest created intel- 
ligence reaches, we certainly know that it can never extend to (dl things* 



S$rmon on the Dipinity ofJesuB Chri$L 373 

For Jehovah claims the prerogative of knowing all things, to the 
exeltision of all other beings. 

The two kinds of knowledge which consists in searching the hearts 
of men, and knowing all the secrets of futurity, are peculiar to Jeho- 
vah, but both th€9e kmds of knowledge belong to Christ. They are 
cJaimed by Him in the New Testament, in the saiwi language they 
are claimed by Jehovah in the Old Testamcfnt By the knowledge of 
futurity, the true God distinguishes Himself from all creatures. ' I am 
God, and there is none like me ; declaring the end from the beginning, 
and from ancient times the things that are not yet done,' Isa. xlvi, 9- 
10. But this knowledge of futurity belongs also to Christ. * Jesus 
knew from the beginning who they were that believed not, and who 
should betray Him,' John vi, 64. Though prophets and apostles have 
often, by express revelation, obtained a knowledge of particular events 
in futurity, no one ever pretended to have this knowledge from his ottm 
power. The moment the spirit of vision was withdrawn fVom the pro- 
' phet, Ihe future was a blank, dark as a starless midnight : not so with 
Christ, for when it is said, ' Jesus knew their thoughts,' it is added, 
that He pkrckived in His spirit that they so reasoned ; not by a 
spirit that 'was given to Him for a particular purpose, as to the prophets, 
but by HtM own spirit ; by an original faculty, which, as we have seen, 
belongs only to God. 

Like God, Christ also searches the heart. * I the Lord search the 
heart, and try the reins, saith Jehovah,' Jer. xvii, 10. * And ail the 
Churches shall know that / am He that searcheth the reins and the 
heart,' responds Jesus Christ. * Thou, even thou, only knowest the 
hearts of all die children of men,' 1 Kings viii, 39. ^ But Jesus did 
not commit Himself unto them, because He knew all men, and needed 
not that any should testify of man, for He knew what wa^ in man J* — 
Here again Christ claims this heart-searching prerogative in *the full 
style and majesty of the Jeliovah of the Old Testament.^ As then 
Christ expressly claims that from which God excludes all creatures, 
Christ cannot be a creature, but must be God Himself. To these at- 
tributes which belong to Christ, omnipotence should also be added ; 
as no being can possess a degree of power beyond its capacity, it is 
impossible that almighty power should be delegated to any being in 
the universe^. To Him who alone possesses it, there was none to give 
it ; and He can impart it to none, unless He first bestow an infinite 
capacity ; and to do that would be creating one equal to Himself, which 
is impossible. Therefore to communicate omnipotent power is not 
the prerogative of God Himself. If, then, Christ possess this, He 
must always have |>ossessed it : He must be God. 

That He did possess it, is evident from His own Godlike claims. 
* Whatsoever things,' says He, * the Father doeth, these also doeth the 
Son likewise,' for ^ all things the Father hath, are mine,' John xvi, 15. 
But if this be so, that Christ does whatsoever things God the Father 
does, and if He is the proprietor of all that belongs to the Father, then 
most certainly omnipotent power invests Him. And this is that which 
is most expressly ascribed to Him, where it is affirmed, * He is the 
Almighty,' Rev. i, 8, 

Now if our great Redeemer swayed a control over all nature, if He 
could still the winds and the waves — cure the most inveterate di«- 

VoL> YL—Octobery 1836. 32 



374 Sermon on ike DMmiy ofJeeue ChrieL 

ease»— TMect infenud spirits — ^pardon the sins of tbe guilty — ^Bummon 
the dead from a state of putreftiction — ^scrutiiiize the hearts of all the 
living — and like the God of the prophets, throw open the secrets of 
futuntj — and all this in His own name, and by His own power — if He 
could be with His ministers through all the coming ages of time—be 
present with His worshippers wherever two or tluee are met in His 
name, over the whole globe— be exalted to absolute dominion over all 
beings, in earth and heaven — ^be the object of supreme adoration from 
men and angels — ^be associated with the Father in the highest ascrip- 
tions made to the Godhead — ^bear the awful names appropriated to the 
great Jehovah: and if He did possess those terribly sublime attri- 
butes without which there could be no God — ^the attributes omnipo- 
tence, oniniscience, and eternity — if men and angels, earth and 
heaven, all things visible and invisible, owe their existence to Hiajiat, 
and their continuance to the word of His power — ^if He is to fold up 
creation like a garment, and remove its mighty mass when He has 
done with it — ^if He is to quicken all tbe dead at the resurrection room 
— ^become the universal Judge of the accountable universe, and pro- 
nounce the unchangeable destinies of all concerned in the final judg- 
ment — ^if all this be so, who will deny supreme Divinity to the Savior 
of the world t 

Finally, we were to show in the last place, That the Gospel pro- 
ceeds on the supposition that Christ possesses supreme Divinity. 

1 . It does this first, by supposing that an atonement for sin has been 
made. That the Gospel, as a saving system, rests on the doctrine of 
atonement, is so evident to a reader of the New Testament, that the 
great evidences of it furnished by that volume scarcely need be thrown 
together. The few following scriptures, therefore, are all that shall be 
adduced for its support : ' He hath made Him to be sin (a sin offering) 
for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of 
God in Him.' * Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, 
being made a curse for us.' < And He is the propitiation for our sins.' 
* Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in His 
blood.' . ' I lay down my life for the sheep.' * He gave Himself for 
us — the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.' *• Christ 
was once offered to bear the sins of many.' 

By these citations, and many more similar ones that might be made, 
the &ct of the atonement is most fully sustained. For here Christ is 
said to take the sinner's place, and for the express purpose that the 
sinner might be made righteous through this eubetttuiion* And, by 
that strong expression of the punitive nature of His sufferings, He is 
said to be a ' curse for us,' for the sole object of redeeming us from the 
curse of the law ; that when He died for the unjust, it was that as 
snch He might bring them to God. And that His death propitiated 
the wrath of offended Majesty is here made unquestionable by the 
repeated ass€»rtion that He was *• set forth to be a propitiistion for our 
sins.' 

But if Christ be not God, He has made no ataneme$U by His death : 

for how could a creature supply the delinquency of other creatures ? 

If the sufferer be a mere creature^ his powers to suffer were received 

from 1^ Creator. How then could he tidLe his Maker's property, and 

, merit something by it from his Maker? But if the sufferer could do 



Sermon on the Divinily ofJemts Christ. S75 

something in behalf of others above wfiat is required of him, on his own 
account, just bo far his services might have been dispensed with, — just 
80 far his services are dispensed with ; for justice can never re(^uire 
one to merit for another. But if any part of his services can be dis- 
pensed wiih^ for the same reason all his services may be ; and then, as 
his Maker has no claim on his services, He cannot justly punish him 
for devoting them to another. And if this is true concerning one ere* 
ated intelligence, it certainly may be true of all created intelligences ; 
and then the whole government of God is eternally at an end. It is 
therefore impossible for any created being to merit any thing from his 
Creator in behalf of another ; consequently Christ is either God, or 
there can be no merits in His death. This conclusion has been so 
powerfully felt by the rejecters of our Lord's Divinity, that now ajl the 
intelligent am,ong them openly ditfcard thte atonement. Indeed, so clear 
and forcible are the reasons that conduce to this conclusion^ that no 
man of letters would hazard his reputation for intelligence by embracing 
these premises and rejecting the conclusion. 

By those less accustomed to push out principles to legitimate con- 
sequences, it has been asked, whether God could not accept any sacri' 
ficefar sin, which Himself might appoint, whether it were the blood of 
an animal, or of a man, or of any other being ? God can undoubt* 
edly. But God cannot consistently appoint any sacrifice to take away 
sin, unless it consist of more than a mere creature. For an arbitrary 
appointment to execute a particular purpose, can add no new excellency 
to the nature of him so appointed. And it is the excellency of the thing 
sacrificed, in which alone the merits of the sacrifice are found. Hence 
the Scriptures constantly connect with the merits of the cross the very 
Diffiniiy of the sufferer. It was Jehovah who was pierced, Zech. xii, 
10. It was God that purchased the Church with His own blood. Acts 
XX, 2S. It was the Lord that bought us, 2 Peter ii, 1 . It was the 
Lord of glory that was sacrificed, 1 Cor. ii, 8. Indeed, if a mere 
creature sacrifice could take away sin, as some of the rejecters of our 
Savior's Godhead maintain, how egregiously did St. Paul blunder in 
asserting that it was * not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats 
should take away sin!' 

You will readily perceive that these arguments, like nearly all we 
have employed in this discourse, overturn the Arian no less than the 
Socinian system. For the distance must ever be the same between 
the Creator and the highest created intelligence in the universe, that it 
is between the Creator and a mere man ; as all beings alike ean bear 
no comparison to the infinite One. 

I care not thenhpw high you place Christ above the brightest cherub 
that burns in Jehovah's presence ; only deny Him supreme Divinity, 
and^ you make Him no less a dependent being than the infant that 
sleeps in your arms. ' For what can be more chimerical than to ima- 
gine a being between the creature and the Creator, one that was neither 
made nor existed of himself? What can be more absurd than to suppose 
such a being to exist ; a being that neither had beginning, or was with- 
out beginning — one that is dependent on another, and yet dependent on 
no one. All these contradictions, and many more, are involved ip that 
9trange system which denies that Christ is a mere created, dependent 
creature, and yet maintains that He is not the supreme €rod. 



376 Sermon on ike Dkinity of Jesua ChrUU 

2. The Gospel, as a djstem; can have do existence when the doc- 
trine of pardon is rejected* For it declares that * all have sinned ;* 
that *• we are children of wrath, even as others ;' that * there is none 
that ddeth good,' and that *• judgment has come upon all men, to con- 
demnation.' Now unless this system provides for pardon^ it necessa- 
rily leaves man interminably in this state of guUt, wrath, and condem- 
nation. 

As a saving system, therefore, the Gospel can exist no longer than 
it involves the doctrine of pardon. But this doctrine involves the pro- 
per Godhead of Jesus Christ ; for we have just shown that there can 
be no atonement unless he that makes it be supreme ; and if we now 
prove there can be fio forgitenesM tciihout an aionementj we shall have 
thereby demonstrated diat the atoping Messiah is God. 

If tiien sin could be pardoned without satisfaciion by aionemtnU it 
must either be done according to the law it has violated, or in opposi^ 
Hon to that law. Iftucording to ike law, then the law makes provision 
for its own violation. But this is impossible ; for were it so, the law 
would threaten the offender with death, and at the same time counter- 
act its own operations, by providing Jor the offender*» escape. The 
penalty of violating it would be the blessing of pardon, and not the 
curse it had threatened : that is, the provision it makes would destroy 
the threat which it utters, and the penalty which it threatens, would 
annihilate the remedy it proposes. So this nuirveUous law would de- 
vour ITSELF. But if these absurdities are too glaring to allow us to 
push the principle any farther, let us next inquire whether sin can be 
pardoned in opposition to the law it has broken. If it can, then in par- 
doning it God must act against His own law. But if He can act 
against one of His laws, He can, for the same reason, act against all 
His laws ; and then, by this single conclusion, all the moral perfections 
of His nature are blotted out for ever. 

It must then be impossible to pardon sin, without satisfaction by 
atonement* The doctrine, therefore, of pardon necessarily involves 
that of our Redeemer's Godhead. 

3. The Gospel attributes to Christ two natures, one of which is per- 
fectly human, and the other which is supremely Divine.* References 

* This doctrine has been rejected because of its mystericusneia. That it involves 
mystery, there can be no doubt ; otherwise, it would be unlike any other subject 
to which created minds extend. What is there in the animal, vegetable, or mine- 
ral kingdom, which in the manner of its being, it not impenetroMy mysterious ? 
Where has there been a mind so highly gifted, as to percewe how gravity acts ? 
how motion is communicated ? how a vegetable greto«, or how his own blood circu- 
lates ? Though these are objects of his own senses, he can no more perceive how 
they are, than he can perceive how three persons are one Jehovah. Only confound 
the MANNER HOW a thing is so, with the fact that it is so, and there is no one troth 
in nature, or revelation, but will be wanting evkience to conmiand rational belief. 
Now it is hv confounding thesis two distinct things, that this objection a|;ainst Jthe 
Godhead of Christ has all its force. A fact may be revealed, clear a» vision, and 
yet everlasting ages may not unfold the reasons of it. The eternity of Jehovah is 
an unquestionable fact, but where is there a created naind that can comprehend 
HOW He is unbeginning ? By ciose attention it will appear that the mystery of 
our Savior's Divmity originates in the same cause in which every ether mystery 
does, viz. the want of capacity in finite minds to grasp the whele. As then oar 
fdith has nothing to do with the mystery, but merely with the fact that involves the. 
mystery, the mysteriousness of a well authenticated fact should never unsettle our 
faith in the truth of it. 



Strmon on the Dhfiniiy of Jems Christ 377 

are so numerously made in die New Testament record to natures so 
disiimilar in. our Lord's person, that the rejecters of His Divinity have 
never been able to reconcile them to their system. These scriptures 
may be ranked in three classes : the first are expressive merely of His 
humanity. < He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;' 

* He was an hungered, thirsty, weary ;' of the last judgment no man 
knoweth the time, * neither the Son, but the Father ;' * Then shall the 
Son also. Himself, be subject to Him that put all things under Him.' 
Such passages are as cleariy referable to humanity^ as those in the 
second class are to Divinity. * Adorn the doctrine of God our Sa- 
vior ;' * My Lord and my God ;' ' Thy throne, O God, is for ever and 
ever;' * And the Word was God.' These, and the like scriptures^ 
can no more be restricted to the limited import of the former class, 
than Jehovah can be equalled by a creature. There is a third class 
of passages, by which is brought to view the twofold nature of our 
Lord. Aniong these are, * The Word was made flesh ;' 'Of whom, 
coiicemmg the flesh, Christ came, who is over all God blessed for 
ever..' 

Now if our Lord possessed two natures, it would indeed have been 
surprising, if each one respectively had never been referred to. Had 
He been merely man, no matter how replete with communicated grace, 
He could never, without blasphemy, be entitied God. Had He not 
been man — ^had His Divinity absorbed His manhood, He could not, in 
truth, be represented as in the first class of quotations. But if these 
two natures remain in Him unseparated and yet distinct, then these 
texts, otherwise irreconcilable, most fitly express the two natures of 
His person. 

Some things are certainly true of the human soul, that are not true 
of the body. We attribute sometimes to the one what we deny to the 
other ; though we usually speak of them together, as they form but one 
person. In like manner some things are true of the manhood of 
Christ, which cannot be offered of His Godhead. Thus, when bur 
Lord speaks of the poor. He says, ' Me ye have not always with you.' 
Yet on another occasion He assures His apostles that He would be 

* with them ahsays .*' and when praying in the audience of His disciples 
He says, • Now I am no more in the world ;' and again, ' The Son of 
man which is in heaven.' 

Now all these propositions cannot be true of either His human or 
Divine nature ; but they are most exactly true of His two natures re- 
spectively. Though He was . not always here with respect to His 
human nature, Ho is always present with His ministers, as to His 
Godhead. He was not in heaven as t6 His manhood, but He was 
there as to His Divine nature. And indeed it would be an easy task 
to collect a score of texts directly contradictory, were they all applied 
to one nature in Christ. The propositions that He was made lower 
than the angels, and yet that He was so vastly above them that they 
were commanded to adore Him ; that He was the son of David, and 
yet that He was David's Lord ; that He was before Abraham, and yet 
was not born until the days of Augustus Cesar ; th,at the earth and the 
heavens were the work of His hands, and yet these had stood four 
thousand years, before the angel shouted His birth ; that He had gioiy 
with the Father before the world was, and yet foiny centuries had been 

32* 



378 Sermon on the Dmiiily 0/ Jetui Ckritl. 

measured out to the world before He w«0 bom in Bethlehem. NjjOw 
such proppsitions, which might be multiplied iudefinitely, can never be 
made to coincide, if Christ have not iht two naiure» Trinitarians ascribe 
to Him. 

So far are these scriptures, then, that make Christ inferior to the 
Father^ from opposing His supreme Divinity, that thej most exactly 
fall in wiih our viewe of the dignity of His person, and can be recon- 
ciled with those passages that make Him supreme, on no other ground. 
The Qospel system insists on these two distinct natures in the great 
Messiah, to make Hia death availing. For, while on one hand it de- 
nies that the Divinity of Christ tuffered^ on the other it imputes all the 
merits of His human eufferinge to His supporting Divinity. It main- 
tains that the human nature became capable of a degree of suffering, 
by its connection with the unsuffering Divinity, of which no other being 
in the universe was capable ; that by virtue of this connection a value 
was communicdted to the sufferings of the humanity, of which God 9lone 
can adequately conceive. It is then on the merits of Him who pos- 
sessed two natures, one in which to suffer, and the other by which to 
stamp untold worth on the sufferiilgs ; it is on the merits of such a suf- 
ferer alone, on which the Gospel bases all human hope. 

4. The Christian system proposes the love and humility of Christ, 
as the great inspiring example for the whole Church, in all ages. The 
evidence of this proposition stands out on the New Testament record 
in so bold relief, that formally to prove it would be to insult your un- 
derstanding. But if Christ be not God, but a mere creature, why are 
His love and humility so highly eulogized in the New Testament. If 
He' be God, the reason is obvious; for then His condescension was 
astonishing, as His felicity was full ; by no enterprise in which He 
could engage, could it be increased : therefore, both when He origina- 
ted and executed the plan of redeeming us. He knew He could gain 
by this arduous work no accession to His happiness. He knew that it 
had always been infinite, and therefore incapable of increase, and that 
leaving us unredeemed could, for the same reason, result in no dtmt- 
nution of His happiness. The redeeming work must then have been 
the fruit of the most amazing love^ on the supposition that the Re- 
deemer was God. 

But if He be not God, if He be a super-angelic Beings as the Arians 
believe, or a mere man, as Socinians maintain, self love alone might 
have induced Him to undertake what He did for us. For if He were 
a mere creature, what was His humility, or what were His sufferings 
more than those of many others^ who never received a thousandth part 
of the i:eward bestowed on Christ for His sufferings ? Did He con- 
tinue His ministry through three or four years, in the midst of some 
persecution? So did St. Paul, through nearly ten times that, period, 
an4 perhaps with ten times the persecution. Did Christ endure a trial 
before an unjust judge, with buffetings and scourgings ? So did the 
apostles in wimerous instances* Did He finally die, cdter a few hours' 
agony on the cross 1 So have the martyrs, idler enduring the most 
studied cruelties through successive days. . And why do the inspired 
writers dwell on the sufferings of Christ, in stiuins so lofty, if the 
pangs that have extorted the groans of -a whole creation deserved not 
the name of sufferings ? But what proportion do the sufferings c^ 



SttniMn <Hi th$ Drnmh/ of Jtwi Christ* 979 

Ctttist, as a ia»re creature* bear to die r^wmrd wiiich He\recehred for 
theiti ? As a eoDsequence of His sufferings, He was raised to the 
place of a mediator between Jehovah and the whole race of man — wan 
elevated above all the angels of God, and seated on ' the right hand of 
the Majesty on high,' and acquired the title of Lord, ascribed to Him 
bj every creature in the universe on its bended knees. 

Now what are a few hours* suffering, compared to all this peerless 
glory, to which no created being can ever attain ? Indeed, instead of 
becoming poor for our sakes, as the apostle urges, He became im- 
mensely rich^ by His undertaking for us. Instead of God's so loving 
the world as to give His Son for it, it would be more appropriate to say 
that He so loved His Son as to honor Him with an appointment to that 
great enterprise. 

For if He be a m6re creature, there is no one for whom He died, 
that reaps a millionth part of the benefit from His death that Up does 
Himself. Can His death, then, be an expression of so much love to 
others^ when in it He could but have an eye on ten thousand times 
more benefit to Himself! 

If Christ be but a creature, then never let us hear again of His fctim- 
hling Himself in becoming obedient to death ; but rather of His exalt- 
ing Himself by it above any being God had created. If He be not 
God, let us hear no more of His sufferings for the Church being super- 
lative ; for many of His disciples have endured much more for the 
benefit of religion. If Christ be not God, let us hear no more of His 
death being an expression of generous love to tlte world, when it pro- 
cured more for Himself than for the whole universe beside. 

Indeed, if Jesus be a mere creature, why is our salvation ascribed to 
Him^ rather than to Paul^ who suffered, and labored vastly more than 
Christ to procure it? Why is not the love of Paul, rather, than the 
love of Jesus, a theme of boundless praise through earth and heaven ? 
But to conclude. By a retrospective glance at the evidences we have 
now collected for the support of this truth, we find every thing be- 
Ic^nging to Christ, which the Scriptures make peculiar to the self- 
existent God. Like God He made the worlds, claims them for His 
own, and will remove them at His pleasure. Like God He pardoned 
the sins of the guilty, sent forth the eternal Spirit, and wrought in His 
own name the most stupendous miracles. Like the Supreme Being, 
He is approached in prayer by the universal Chyrch on earth ; He is 
the object of praise from the redeemed spirits in heaven, and receives 
unceasing homage from all the angels of God. In His name no less 
than in that of the Father, the inspired benediction is pronounced, the 
niost sacred oaths are uttered, and the ordinance of baptism is admin- 
istered. To Christ, as to Jehovah, belong those titles by which alone 
the ineffable One has made Himself known; titles that He has ex- 
pressly denied to every other being in the universe ; titles for the 
assumption of which, if He were not God, it was the duty of the Jews 
to stone Him. Like the infinite God, He claimed the perfections 
of an eternal nature, eio that it could not be robbery to reckbn Him- 
self equal with God. The awfully sublime attributes of Almighty 
power, boundless knowledge, every where pervading presence, and 
unbeginning existence, belonged to Him. Like God He undertook to 
dispose of the claims of eternal government by atonement, and to open 



3S0 JStn E9$ay an ChrisiUM PerfteUan. 

the wty for pardon to a iriiole world exposed to die unaiMWered claims 
of law. 

Most certainly, then, the Bible* either reveals nothing that God ha$ 
done^ or Christ is God. It either informs us of no name belonging to 
Jehofah, or Christ is that Jehovah to whom it belongs. It either speaks 
of no attribuiea that invest the eternal One, or Christ is He whom they 
enrobe. It either reveals no dtject of *w}r»hip in the universe, or 
Christ is that object ; and indeed the Bible either speaks of no God in 
beings or Christ is that infinite One. 

Let it also be remembered by those who reject the Redeemer's Di- 
vinity, that they thereby reject the atonement imputed to Him ; all 
pardon of sin through the atonement, and all regenerating operations 
of the Divine Spirit on the heart. And then the Gospel is a dead let- 
ter, and the ministers of it uncommissioned wanderers. 

As then, my brethren, the Divinity of Christ is the key-stone of the 
Christian system, let us cleave to the doctrine as to the only hope of our 
lapsed nature, and prepare to join with * every creature in heaven and 
on earth,' in supreme ascriptions ^ to Him that sitteth on the throne, 
and to the Laic b for ever and ever.' Amen. 



AN ESSAY ON CHRISTIAN PERFECTION. 

BY B. F. SHEFARD, 
0/ the Protettant Episcopal Seminary, 

If every religious opinion which engages the attention of man was 
judged by its practical importance, how many of those which are the 
subject of frequent and almost interminable disputes, would mnk into 
forgetfulness. ' Many of the points which occupied the field of contro- 
versy in the middle ages, and to the examination of which were brought 
profound learning and the acutest logic, are now regarded as not worth 
contending for, or as too plain to be disputed. Polemics have gene- 
rally shown themselves most fond of those subjects on which it is 
impossible to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion — subjects too subtle 
and abstruse to admit of clear investigation, or conclusive argument. 
Here argument may be met by argument, and sophistry by sophistry, 
equally plausible and equally obscure. If they cannot gain a victory, 
they can at least avoid the appearance of a defeat — if they cannot con- 
vince or persuade, they can talk profoundly, (or what often passes for 
the same thing, unintelligibly,) and wrap themselves up in a mist of 
scholastic jargon and incomprehensible speculations, which the human 
mind is prone to admire and applaud. Such were the disputes between 
the nominalists and realists — ^that about the perpetual virginity of the 
blessed virgin — the eternal generation of Christ — the origin of evil, 
and the consistency of the Divine sovereignty and human free agency. 
But I need not refer to examples ; for they will readily suggest them- 
selves to every one at all acquainted with the course of metaphysical 
or theological controversy. Had all the labor, learning; and talent, 
which have been spent upon such points, been employed in efforts to 
make men wiser and better, the state of the world would have been 
vastly different from what we now see it. 



Jin Eisay on Chruttan Perfection. 381 

Thero are few opinions of more practical importance than that which 
we have placed at the head of this article ; and yet there are few which 
are less regarded or more extensively disbelieved. Many of our most 
numeroufi and excellent denominations of Christians regard it as dan- 
gerous and impious. They do not hesitate to say that it proceeds from 
pride of superior light and other corrupt passions of the heart, and 
that those who profess it are on the very brink of ruin. We regret 
exceedingly that a doctrine which we regard as so precious, should 
be thus viewed by any portion of our fellow Christians. But we have 
too deep a respect for their Christian spirit — for their evangelical and 
deep-toned piety, and their love for truth, to suspect that they are influ- 
enced by any other feelings than love for their Savior and a watchful 
solicitude for the salvation of souls. It is with the utmost diffidence 
that we venture to advocate a doctrine which has been rejected by so 
lar^ a portion of the holiest men that ever lived, and which is now 
opposed by many whom we highly esteem and love. £ven the Church 
to which We belong, and id whose communion we hope to spend 
our days laboring for the. cause of the Redeemer, almost univer- 
sally rejects it. But it appears to us of the most consoling character, 
and of the highest importance to the welfare of Zion. 

Xhis doctrine, like many others, has been exposed to much prejudice 
on account of the errors with which it has frequently been connected. 
When the doctrine of perfection is mentioned, we are often referred to 
the brothers and sisters of the Free Spirit in Germany, in the fourteenth 
century, who, under the guise of holiness or a tmion with God, threw 
aside all law, all ordinances, and all restraint, apd advocated doctrines 
and practices as abhorrent to religion as they were to decency and 
common sense. Antinomianism has sometimes been its attendant, 
and hence it is inferred that a rejection of the law is a necessary ap- 
pendage to the doctrine of Christian perfection. And the views that 
are entertained in this country by those termed Perfectionists, are cal- 
culated to foster this prejudice against the doctrine even in its pure 
and Scriptural form. We hold many of the opinions of this last-named 
sect, in as much abhorrence as any of our brethren. We believe that 
in some important particulars they are striking at the foundation of the 
Gospel itself, and that the propagation of their opinions ^11 be follow- 
ed by most disastrous results. That all Christians are perfect, and 
that the law is not binding on them, are opinions which those who hold 
the Scriptural doctrine of perfection will be the first to condemn. If 
we can only succeed in freeing the doctrine from these objectionable 
features, and in doing away the prejudices that have consequently 
arisen, our labor will not be in vain. 

Our object now is to consider briefly the nature and proof of the 
doctrine of Christian perfection. What then are we to understand by 
this doctrine? 

We will first answer it negatively. It is not perfection in knowledge. 
This would be omniscience. Knowledge of spiritual things, indeed, 
will be greatly increased in the perfect Christian ; in the same inanner 
as it is constantly increasing in every Christian as he grows in grace. 
Just so far as a preparation of heart, arid n. conformity to the image of 
Qod, are requisite to a full comprehension of Divine truth, so far will 
his knowledge be increased. But the nature of God^ and his own soul. 



382 An E9$my an Chri3H4n Perfection, 

and the works of creation, will still present innumerable difficulties. — 
On these subjects, and in all departments of human knowledge, he, 
like every other man, will know only in part. It is a moral, not an 
intellectual perfection. 

Nor will he be exempt from mistakes. Christian perfection does 
not confer infallibility. Errors of judgment or of ignorance may still 
occur ; but when they are seen, they will immediately be corrected. 
His end will always be good, his motives good, and the means by which 
he pursues his end such as appear to him most wise and just. The 
Spirit will guide him into all essential truth, and upder the influence of 
that truth he will act. On unimportant points he may commit errors 
or mistakes ; but they will be the result of human weakness and in- 
firmity, and not sin. Infirmities will exist till death is swallowed up 
in glory. But infirmities are not sins. We cannot here forbear no- 
ticing what seems to us a common mistake, and which it is of essen- 
tial importance to correct. It is the disposition to regard all errors as 
sins. In many cases this is virtually taken for granted, when it is 
professedly denied ; and when a Christian is seen falling into impru- 
dences, or erring ever so innocently, it is thought preposterous to sup- 
pose that such a one is or can be perfect. Now it should be remem- 
bered that nothing is sin, unless it proceed from a bad motive. The 
motive alone is regarded by God, and whosoever is actuated by pure 
love to Him will be approved, although a mistaken judgment or incor- 
rect views may lead him into some error in practice. Let it not be 
thought that I am setting aside conduct as a test of character. . I have 
before said that the peifect Christian will be Jed by the Spirit into all 
essential truth. Essential truth operating upon a Christian heart will 
prevent all essential errors in practice. Whenever these do occur, 
whatever professions are made, it may be set down as certain that they 
do not proceed from truth and the Spirit of God. The sincere inqui- 
rer afler truth and duty, whose heart is filled with love to God, will find 
the Bible a sufficient guide to preserve him from all sin and from seri- 
ous mistakes. There is no surer proof of the folly and impiety of the 
pretensions made by some among us to superior holiness and light, 
than the very conduct which they claim to be the result of these, but 
which is utt^ly at variance with the Spirit and principles of the word 
of God. To this every pretension, principle, and practice must be 
brought. Whatever is at variance widi it must be wrong. No impul- 
ses, no inward light or pretended visions, can alter one of its doctrines 
or supersede one of its claims. If the doctrine of Christian perfection 
is not found here, it must at once be rejected. Against this, the expe- 
rience and feelings of millions should have no weight. Human 
opinions and feelings are &llible, but the word of God standeth sure. 
We are more explicit on this point, because those who hold the doc- 
trine of perfection have been accused of undervaluing the Bible. — 
Some, we admit, have elevated their own feelings above the oracles of 
God, and have made pretensions to light and purity, just in proportion 
as they have sunk into the clutches of Satan. Such may have gone 
out from us, but they are not of us. Toojs the Bible is the only sure 
guide of faith and practice. It is the only repository of our hopes — 
the test of our principles, and the guide of our lives. 

Again, Christian perfection does not give exemption from tempts^ 



A» E$$uy on Chri$iian Perftetion. d83 

tion. Our Savior Himself was tempted, and it would be strange if all 
His followers were not. The perfect Christian is still a man, possess* 
ing the faculties and subject to the feelings of a man. But temptations 
are not sins ; and every temptation will be resisted as successfully and 
as sinlessly as those of our Savior. 

Nor does- Christian perfection imply the highest possible degree of 
holiness. In this sense the angels in heaven are not perfect, fbr they 
are destined to go on increasing in -holiness for even No being but 
God is infinitely holy. Every being that is not infinitely holy may 
increase in holiness to all eternity. 

What then is Christian perfection ? We answer, It is entire freedom 
from sin, and supreme love to God. The old man with his affec- 
tions and lusts has been put off. The carnal mind — ^the corrupt pas- 
sions-^he hatred to God, have been entirely subdued, and he that was 
before supremely selfish, sold under sin, now loves God with all his 
heart, mind, and strength, and his neighbor as himself. No other ob- 
ject is allowed to share his affections with God. His ivhole heart is 
His. He loves friends and the brethren ; but his love to them increa- 
ses instead of diminishing his love to God. In this all his happiness 
consists, and by this his whole life is directed. 

We say that perfection consists in entire freedom from sin and su- 
preme love to God. I do not say that the perfect Christian loves God 
so much as he is worthy to be loved. He is worthy of infinite love, 
which no finite being can ever b,estow. We are required to love God 
with all the heart — ^that is .with all our heart ; not with the heart or pow- 
ers of an angel. And when we thus love Him, and our neighbor as 
ourselves, and act under the influence of this love, we fulfil the royal 
law, and are perfect in the sense in which we understand perfection. — 
The |)erfect Christian loves God to the full extent of his powers, 
and he is not the less perfect from the fact Uiat his powers will expand, 
and that he will be able to love Him more herea^er. If it were so, 
gforified spirits and angels in heaven would not be perfect, for they are 
constantly progressing in -holiness and love to God. ' They all love 
God to the full extent of their present powers, and. in this their perfec- 
tion consists. And when the Christian lov%s God with all his powers 
he will be perfect; however limited those powers may be. And being 
actuated by supreme love to God, in all his thoughts, words, and deeds, 
he will be free from all sin. This is Christian perfection ; and we be- 
lieve every Christian may and ought to attain it. 

We now proceed to the second part of our subject, namely, the 
proof that Christian perfection may be attained in this life. This may 
be drawn from the very nature of sin. What is sin but voluntary 
disobedience to a known law ? The fact that disobedience is volun- 
tary implies that obedience is possible. If the law cannot be obeyed, 
then it is unjust, and there is no sin in disobeying it ; for where there is 
n& ability there is no obligation. We. cannot too strongly reprobate 
the doctrine, that God imposes upon men commands which He gives 
them no power to obey. Such a supposition makes God a tyrant and 
the Bible absurd. If it be said that God is ever'ready to grant us His 
Spirit to enable us to do our duty, then the result is just what we are 
contending for — we have power to obey the commands of God. It 
mirtters little, as to the point in huid, whether this power is within us, 



I 



• 



384 Jin Essay on Christian Psffeeiion. 

or whether it be an eztemal, superadded influence, supplied by the 
Spirit of God, of which we may alwa3n9 avail ourselves. In either case 
m command is given us, and the power of obeying it put within our 
reach. Our guilt consists in neglecting to use this power. If it be 
said that the sinner's inability to obey the whole law of God is some- 
thing which iie has brought upon himself, and that the Holy Spirit is 
granted him as an act of mercy to free him from the consequence of 
his own sin, then I hAve nothing to object. But if iibe asserted that 
this inability is antecedent to his own agency — ^something inherent in 
the nature of the soul, whi«h man did not produce, and cannot even by 
the aid of God's Spirit destroy, it will lead to the most dangerous con- 
sequences. On this principle, a man when he arrives at an age to 
distinguish between good and evil, finds hinuself possessed of certain 
faculties and powers. A law is given him, which in the exercise of 
these powers it is utterly impossible for him to obey. Damnation is 
the consequence of disobedience. This inability he did not create and 
he cannot remove. Whoever is responsible, he is not. Now I ask, 
Can it be just, that that man should be damned ? If so, it must be for 
not performing impossibilities. If not, then God is under obligeUion 
to grant him His Spirit to enable him to obey His commands. This 
makes the gift of the Spirit an act of debt and -not of grace. And in 
this case our position still remains good — man will have the power to 
do his duty and keep the law.* 

The distinction will here be made between natural and moral ability, 
and with reason. Tiiis difference, it seems to us, is much greater than 
is generally supposed ; so great indee4 that it would be altogether im- 
proper to express the two ideas by the same term, did not the want of 
better language xequire it. As. it is, the expressions m<»'al inability 
and moral necessity almost always express wrong ideas. ^ A moral 
inability is iti reality no inabUity at all — ^it is simply unwillingness. 
And when we say a man is morally unable to obey a command of God, 
we mean simply that he is unwilling to obey a command which he has 
full power to obey. That men are in this sense unable, that is, unwil- 
ling to fulfil the requirement of God, we freely admit, and for this rea- 
son the Holy Spirit is griftited to overcome their unwillingness and 
constrain them to repent and serve God. This is the View presented 
throughout the Bible : God gave man a law, and commanded him to 
obey it. Nothing is said about his ability to comply — it is taken for 
granted, and every transgression receives its just recompense of reward. 
Man's only inability then to serve God consists in an unwillingness 
to do what he knows he can and ought to do. When the sinner is 
converted this unwillingness is at an end ; the corrupt fountain of the 
heart from which it proceeded, is broken up ; self love is subdued and 

I 

* We do not exactly agree with our author in the above paragraph. Through 
the inability brought on us by the original apostacy, we are unable of ourselves to 
do what God requires, that is, to love God with all the heart : — hence the neces- 
flity of conversion. For if we were able to love God in our natural state, the ne- 
cessity of conversion would be superseded ; but our Savior has said, * Except ye be 
converted, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of God.* Neither can a sinner re- 
pent and believe in Jesus Christ, only as he is assisted by the Holy Spirit. But as 
the Holy Spirit is given to all men in the day of their merciful visitation, and every 
means afforded them for working out their salvation, therefore it is perfectly pro- 
per to say to all, Ye have power to do whatever God requires at year hands. — £l^. 



^ 



Jn E0smi on Christian Perfection, S85 

(be love of God implanted, and becomes henceforth the predominant 
feeling of the heart. When it becomes supreme and fills the whole 
soul, then he is a perfect Christian. If the sinner can obey the com- 
mand of Grod, much more the Christian^ for he has acquired great 
moral power bj his repentance and conversion* With him the great 
obstacle has b^n overcpme-— the rebellious heart. It is therefore far 
more probable that the Christian will become perfect, than that the sin- 
ner will become a Christian. 

But let us proceed to more direct Scriptural proof. Time will by 
no means allow us to select all the passages that support the doctrine 
ID question. We shall notice only a few of the more obvious. 

If a command implies duty, and duty supposes ability, either inherent 
or conferred, to perform it, then the attainability of perfection may be 
easily proved from the words of our Savior, Matt, xxii, 37-39, * Thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with alt thy heart, and with all thy soul, 
and with all thy strength, and. thy neighbor as thyself Here is a 
plain command, and full obedience to it constitutes Christian perfec- 
tion, as we have before shown. The command itself is very clear ; 
there is no obscurity either in the >v^ords or the idea. It simply requires 
that we should love God supremely ; that is, to the full extent of our 
present powers, and our neighbor as ourselves. The only question 
is, Can these commands be obeyed ] Can the Chriatinn obey them ? 
for of him alone are we to speait. Can he, in the exercise of all the 
powers which God has given him, and by the aid of the Holy Spirit, 
which all who ask will receive, obey these commands, on which hang 
all the law and the prophets 1 If he can, then our position is sustained 
-r-perfection is attainable. If he cannot, then ope bf two things will 
follow ; either it is not his duty to obey these ^rst commands of God, 
or it is his duty to perform impossibilities ; for by the supposition obe- 
dience to these commands is an impossibility. We leave those wha 
take this ground to settle the controversy between themselves and God. 

Agaui, Matt, v, 48, *> Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father 
which is in heaven is perfect.' This is a part of our Savioi^s inimitable 
sermon on the mount It seems to be the sum of a variety of instruc- 
tions, which He had been giving to His diaciples. As if wearied with 
flaming particulars, He sums up their whole duty in this, * Be ye there- 
fore perfect,' &c. What does this injunction mean 1 Few, I suppose 
will deny, that it relates to the moral character, not to the intellectual ; 
and therefcMre cannot mean * be ye fully instructed in doctrine and duty,' 
as some have supposed. For to be ' fully instructed in doctrine and 
duty as God is fully instructed in doctrine and duty,' is nothing less 
than omniscience. It cannot inean simply ^be ye Christians,' for then 
every Christian has complied with the full injunction of Christ, however 
small may be his spiritual attainments. Beside, simply to be Chris, 
tians, while they are constantly sinning, as many contend that Christians 
are, is very far from being perfect as God is perfect. On the other 
hand, no one will pretend that it teaches a perfection of degrees, as it 
is called, or that it requires men to be holy or perfect in the same 
degree in which God is perfect, for with finite beings this is impossi- 
ble. God is infinitely holy. It seems. evidently to require unmingled 
holiness. Be y0 holy as God is holy, according to the extent of your 
powers. 

Vol. VI October, 1835. 33 



386 JStn E$$ay on ChrUtian Perfeeiian. 

Anodic passage is found Col. iv, 12, * Epaphias — saluteth ym^ 
always laboring fervently for you in prayers, that ye may stand perfect 
and complete in all the will of God.' Here is the prayer of a saint, 
of which the apostle evidently approves. It is of course a reasonable 
prayer, and one to which he might reasonably expect an answer. He 
prays that the Christians at CoUosse might stand perfect and compUU 
in all the will of God ; or in other words, that they might be perfectly 
and completely conformed to the whole will of God. Now what was 
the whole will of God in regard to them ? Certainly not that they should 
continue to sin and give Him a divided heart. But that they should 
forsake all sin, and love Him with their whole heart The original 
words rendered perfect and complete are very expressive. The for- 
mer, TBknoi means perfect, complete. The verb from which it is deri- 
ved means, to perfect — to make perfect — ^to complete. The other 
word, rsf'XfipciJfMvoi, is the passive participle of the verb leXfigoo)^ to ful- 
fil — to perform fully — to complete — to perfect. In the passive, to be 
fully completed, or entirely conformed to, as in the passage before us. 
It can mean nothing less than complete conformity to the whole will 
of God ; and this is nothing less than perfection. 

There is another class of texts, in which a different word occurs in 
the original. This is xa^agi^oi^ (from xo^ofog, pure,) to cleanse, to pu- 
rify either from external impurities, or legally, or spiritually. The first 
passage we shall quote is I John i, 7-*10, ^ But if we walk in the light, 
as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the 
blood of Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin. If we say we have 
no sin we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess 
our sins, He is faith^l and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse 
us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make 
Him a liar, and the truth is not in us.' The meaning of the phrases 
* cleanseUi us from all sin,' and * to cleanse from all unrighteousness,' 
is obvious. They imply an entire freedom from all sin. This is their 
literal import. And if the blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin, it 
will give us sinless perfection. It may be said that the >8th verse 
shows that we cannot be free from all sin : « If we say we have no sin 
we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.' But the 8th verse is 
explained by the 10th : * If we say we have not sinned we make Him 
a liar,' &c. The phrase, * If we say we have no Mn,' of the 8th verse, 
is of the same import with that in the lOih, * If we say we haee not 
sinned.^ The meaning of both is, if we ^ay we are not sinners, and 
therefore have no need of the blood of Christ to cleanse us from our 
sins, then we deceive ourselves. The 8th and 10th verses refer to 
the state in which men are by nature^ previous to the operation of Di- 
vine grace upon the heart, and not to that in which they must neces- 
sarily remain afler it has operated. If any one sav, that the expression 
^ the blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin,' refers not to wluit takes 
place in this life, but to what will take place in a future life, he gives it 
an expiaiiation which the context will by no means bear. The two 
expressions in the 7th verse, * If we walk in the light,' and * The blood 
of Christ cleanseth us from all sin,' evidently refer to the same period 
of time. l¥hen ye walk in the light as He is in the light, then the 
blood of Christ wiU cleanse you from all sin. That the first clause of 
this verse * If ye walk in the light,' refers to their walking in this hfe, 



An Esaay an Ckri$tian PtfecHan. 387 

&o one will deny. That the first consequence of this walking in the 
li^t, viz. ' Ye have fellowship one with another,' also occurs in this 
life .will not be denied — and it is equally undeniable, that the second 
consequence, viz. the blood of Chnst cleanseth us from all sin, will 
occur during the same period. 

There is another text peculiarly strong, 2 Cor. vii, 1, * Havmg there, 
fore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanae ourselves from all 
jUthiness of the flesh and spiriU perfecting hohness in the fear of 
God.' * AH iilthiness of the flesh and spirit,' includes all sins of 
every kind, and to be cleansed from all sins of every kind is to be en- 
tirely free from sin, or to attain sinless perfection. The expression 
^ perfecting holiness' proves two things. 1. l^t there may be holi- 
ness in the heart, which is not perfect or complete, and therefore over- 
turns the opinion, of those who hold that 6very Christian is perfect. 
For the text was addressed to Christians, and if they were already per« 
feet in holiness, there would be no propriety in exhorting them to make 
their holiness perfect. 2. It shows that perfect holiness may be ob- 
tained ; for it would be idle to exhort men to obtain or to seek that 
which is known to be unattainable. The verb of which perfecting is 
a participle means, to finish — ^to complete— to perfect. Now holiness 
cannot be finished — completed — ^peiifected, while there is any unholi- 
ness remaining. The conclusion is unavoidable. 

Again, 1 Thess. v, 23, * And the very God of peace sanctify you 
lehoUy^ and I pray God your whole spirit, and soul, and body be pre- 
served blameless unto the coming of our Lord and Savior Jesus 
Christ.' Here is a prayer of the apostle, and if it be not a prayer that 
the Thessalonian Christians might be perfectly holy before death, 
(which is meant .by. the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ,) I am utterly . 
at a loss to know what it does mean, or what language can express 
such an idea. Is it said that this is merely the expression of a wish 
on the part of the apostle, without implying that the thing desired was 
attainable ? Bating the absurdity or the profanity of the idea, that the 
apostle would pray for what he knew could not be obtained, the very 
next verse proves the incorrectness of such a supposition. For he 
adds, * Faithful is He that calleth you, who also will do it,* Will do 
what ? Certainly what the apostle had just prayed for, viz. sanctify 
them whoUy^ and preserve them blameless imto death. I see no possi- 
ble way of evading this argument. He prays for their perfect sancti- 
fication in this life, and then says it will be done. 

Henry's comment on this passage is worthy of a passing notice. — 
It is as follows : *• The things prayed for on the part of the Thessalo- 
nians are their sanetificatio9 — that God looM sanctify them wholly^ and 
their preservation, that they might be preserved blameless. He prays 
that itkey might be whoUy sanctified ; that the whole man might be 
sanctified ; and then that Uie whole man, spirit, soul, and body might 
be preserved ; or he prays that they might be whoUy sanctified, more 
perfectly, for the best are sanctified but in part while in this world, and 
therefore we should pray for and press toward complete sanctification.' 
Now I would fain ask by what rule of interpretation Mr. Henry makes 
wholly sai%ctified^ the whole man sanctified^ ^hich he four times repeats 
as the amount of the apostle's prayer, mean merely sanctified more 
perfectly, or sanctified only in partf which he says ia all that the best 



388 ^An E$$ay on CkriMUin PmfscHon. 

ca& attain \»hile in this world. And still more remarkable does this 
appear, when immediately afler he speaks of the apoetle^s ' comfortable 
assurance that God would hear his prayer.' Faithful is He who calleth 
you, who also will do it. Now wliat was the apostle's prayer. Henry 
has said four times that it was that they might be teholiy sanctified; 
and here he says that he had a * comfortable assurance tiiat God would 
hear his prayer,' which the apostle directly asserts in rerse 24. How 
is this consistent with the assertion that the best are sanctified but in 
part while in this world ] And he says again, ' Therefore the apostle 
assures them that God would do what he (the apostle) desired.' — 
Whether this assurance amounted to a full certainty that they wpuid be 
wholly sanctified in tl^ life, or not, is of no consequence to our argu- 
ment. It is certainly inconsistent with a knowledge or even a belief 
that they could not be wholly sanctified. To make this matter per- 
fectly clear, we will state these propositions together. 

1. The apostle prays that God would wholly 9a$iciify the Thessalo- 
nian Christians. (See verse 23 and Henry's comment.) 

2. He has * comfortable assurance' that God would hear his ]Mrayer. 
(See verse 24 and Henry's comment.) 

3. The conclusion according to Henry is, the heat are sanetified but 
in pari while in this world. Whether it be legitimate or not I leave 
others to judge. 

Should it be objected that this reasoning would prove that all fhe 
Thessalonian Christians must have become perfect, which is highly 
improbable, I reply, 1. There is no such improbability in the case as 
will justify us in rejecting the plain sense of the apostle's words. And 
2. Though he prays that they might be sanctified wholly, and has 
comfortable assurance that God will hear his prayer, yet it is obviously 
implied, if they will obey his injunctions and do their duty. 

Again, 1 John ii, 6, 6, ^ Whoso keepeth His word, in him verily is 
the love of God perfected : hereby we know that we are in Him. He 
that saith be abideth in Him ought himself also to walk even as He 
walked.' If the love of God is perfected, then there must be pwfect 
love. Perfect love excludes sin, and these two points constitute per- 
fection. The 6th verse is equally strong. ^ He that saith he abideth 
^n Htm, ought himself also to walk even as He (Christ) walked.' Now 
haw did Christ walk? Surely in perfect holiness, and no one can 
walk as He walked who does not live perfectly holy. Ought implies 
obligation ; obligation supposes power to meet it. What a man ought 
to do he is guilty for not doing ; but it is a palpable absurdity to sup- 
pose that a man is guilty for not doing that which he has no power 
to do. 

Another argutiiient is founded on one of the petitions in (Mir Lord's 
prayer. ' Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,' How is 
God's will done in heaven? He is perfectly loved and perfectly 
obeyed. This is what He wishes of all His creatures. How then 
must it be done on earth, in order that this petition may be answered? 
Why He must here be perfectly loved and perfectly obeyed by every 
individual. In no other way can His will be done on earth as it is in 
heaven. Here then is a prayer given us by our Savior for universal 
perfection which many Christians are in the daily habit of «£iing. Ib 
regard to it oi\e of three things must be admitted. 



An JSifay on ChrisiUm Pwftetum. 389 

1. It must be a prayer iifhich may be offered in faith, and which 
consequently may be answered ; and if so, perfection is* attainable : or, 

2. Our Savior intended by it to lead his disciples to believe what is 
not true, and to pray for that which fie never intended to grant : or, 

3. He intended they should offer a prayer which they did not be- 
lieve, and to which they had no expectation of an answer. Which of 
these propositions is true, no one can long hesitate to determine. 

But I have here an additional remark. Many of our opponents hold 
a belief in the doctrine of perfection to be a sin. At least one* eccle- 
siastical body of our land has condemned it, as among the prominent 
heresies of the day. Here then comes a new difficulty. We are com- 
manded by our Savior to pray for a certain object, and yet we are told 
that it is a sin to believe that object can be obtained. Can persons 
with such opinions offer such a prayer ? 

There is another class of passages, in which the verb xara^i^cj and 
its derivatives occur, which bears upon this doctrine. ' The proper 
original sense of ti^ word is to compact or knit together either mem-> 
hers in a body, or parts in a building.' (See Leigh in Parkhurst.) 
It thence comes to mean to perfect, to finish, to complete. Dr. Clarke, 
in his note on 2 Cor, xiii, 9, « And this we wish, even your perfection,' 
has these remarks : ^ The perfection or rejoicing which the apostle 
here wishes, is that which he refers to the state of the Church in its 
fellowships unity, order, &c. And perfection in the soul is the same in 
reference to it, as peifection in the Church is to its order and unity. 
The perfection or rejoicing of the soul implies its purification, and 
placing of every fiicuity, passion, and appetite in its proper place ; so that 
the original order, harmony, and purity of the soul may be restored, and 
the whole builded up to be a habitation of God through the Spirit' 

We shall give but two passages where the word occurs. Heb. xiii, 
20, 21, « Now the God of peace that brought again from the dead our 
Lord Jesus Christ, that great Shepherd of Uie sheep, through the blood 
of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do 
His toill^ working in you that which is weUpleanng in Hie eight through 
Jesus Christ.' The other pjassage is 1 reter v, 10, « But the God of 
all grace, who haXh called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, 
after that ye have suffered awhile, make you perfect^ establish, 
strengthen, settle you.' * 

Comment on these passages is hardly necessary. I know of no 
language that can more strongly express Christian perfection than tfiat 
in the one first quoted. * Make you perfect in every good work to do 
Hiswillj^ &c. They are to be inade perfect in every good Work which 
God will have them do ; God Himself working in them that which is 
weU pleading in His sight ; which of course cannot be sin, or in any 
way mingled with sin. 

We must here add a few words on the propriety of praying for tiiat 
which we believe to be unattainable. Prayer to be acceptable must be 
offered in faith ; not indeed with that full assurance which is included 
in the highest sense of that .word, and which enables us to fed certain 
that our particular request will be granted. But we must believe liMi 
the thing^or which we pray is possible and agreeable to the will of 
God, and we must have some ground to hope that our prayer will be 

• Synodof S.C.,inapftp«reatttled*8«bstitateftrtheAotudT«rtim«if^ 

88« 



tf An Essay on Ckrisiian PmfteiUm* 

heard and answered. For example, a Chrmtian prays for a& ifnp«nt« 
t^ni friend. %e knows not the arrangeneota of God in regard to that 
individual, or what will be his destiny. But he does know that it is 
the will of God that sinners should repentr and he has some ground of 
hope in this particular case. But should this ftieod die impenitent, 
giving the clearest evidence that he was lost, dien he would feel that it 
was wrong to pray for him because he couid have no hope, and conse- 
quently no faith, aince it would appear manifestly contmry to the will 
and purpose of God to answer his prayer. Now could he previous 
to the death of that friend obtain evidence that he was given up of God 
to impenitence and final destruction— evidence that left no shadow of 
doubt, would it not be equalfy wrong to pray for him as in the former 
case ? Every one sees that it would ; and why t Because he believes 
it contrary to the will of God to grant his prayer. Now suppose on 
the odier hand we are commanded to pray for a specified object—the 
conversion of the world for instance — would any one doubt that such 
an object could be accomplished, or that there was reasonable ground 
to hope that it would be accomplished ? And is not the conclusion 
equally clear in regard to that petition of the Lord's prayer which we 
have already noticed, < Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,' or 
the prayer of Paul, * The God of peace sanctify you wholly,' as it is in 
regard to the conversion of the world? And how God's will can be 
done on earth as it is in heaven, while all men. Christians as well as 
sinners, are continually sinning against Him and violating His will, I 
am unable to see. But on the principle of those who oppose the doc- 
trine of perfection, we must not only pray ofltimes withovt faith, but 
against faith ; we must pray for that Which our creed requires us to 
diabelieve and regard as a heresy and a sin. Can this be right? 

But what do Christians and Christian ministers in particular teach on 
this subject 1 Do they not exhort men to do all their duty— to avoid 
all sin, and love God with all their heart, mind, and strength ? And if 
they see a brother offend, do they not feel bound to reprove him ? 
^Supposing that brother should urge in excuse what he had often heard 
his preacher advance — 

* Why I am imperfect ; I cannot be free from all sin ; I cannot do 
all my duty ; you mu^t excuse some delinquencies.' 

Wha\ would be the reply ? 

Methtnks it would be — ^ You have no excuse for sin ; you ca/n do 
your duty ; God commands you to love Him supremely, and you are 
guilty if you do not obey.' 

* What!' replies the brother, * are you a perfectionist V 

' ' O no ; I mean' — (what does he mean ?) * 1 mean— you must strive 
to avoid all sin, and to do all your duty, though it is presuniption to 
expect you can ever accomplish it here.' 

^ But afiter I have done the utmost ^at I can with the help of God* 
and fail in some points, am i still guilty V 

^-O mtf after we have done all,, we are unprofitable servants.' 

* To be sure ; but does unprofitMe imply guilt ? Your servant may 
become unprofitable through sickness ; but is he guilty fo? being sickt' 

^ G sir, I see you are falling into the common error ef measuring 
your duty by your abihty.' 

' Will you have the goodness, sir, to point out to me a duty which 
I cannot perform, and tell me iipon what principle it is a duty V 



An E$$9g on ChrMian PivfeeHon. Z9\ 

/ *¥(ra mtt emamaiided to lore Ck)d wiA all jrour he«rtt >n<l your 
neighbor as yonrtetf ; yet 'tit preaomptioti to think you can do it/ 

« This is singttlar. You have just reproved me for not keeping &is 
commandraentf and now you tell me that it is presumption to think I 
can keep k. If I tan keep it, it is not presumption to think I can ; tf 
I cannoU why do you reprove me? But will jou tell me« sir, how 
much of it I may expect to keep without being guilty of presumption V 

We might go on with this dialogue, and we believe our anti*perfec- 
tion teacher would find himself involved in a variety of difficulties. It 
is impossible in re^d to most minds to separate ^e idea of the im- 
possibility of avoiding all sin, from that of justification in the commis- 
sion of some sin. We know it is absurd to speak of being justified in 
the commission of sin, yet it is an absurdity to which the doctrine we 
Qre opposing almost necessarily leads. It becomes our opponents to 
relieve trs from the embarrassment in which their principle involves us. 
According to them we sin in aiming too high, <aid we sin in aiming 
too low ; it is presumption to expect too much, and it is want of faith 
to expect too little. Ho^ much then of our duty may we expect to 
perform, and be guiltless both of presumption and of neglect ? Suppo- 
sing that when our Savior repeated those oommands on which hang all 
the law and the prophets, some by-stander had said to Him, * Master, 
we know that your commands are just and holy, but I cannot obey 
them ; 'tis presumption to think so,'«^what would have been His reply ? 

But it may be said that though anyone individual sin may be avoided, 
yet the whole series and for a course of years cannot. I recollect a 
remark of Coleridge to the same point. He advanced the objection, 
and brought forward an illustration to support it. I cannot now turn 
to the passage, neither do I precisely recollect the illustration, but I 
will give one somewhat like it and which will answer the same purpose. 
A blind man attempts to walk a narrow path between two precipices ; 
be proceeds h few steps in safety ; but it does not follow that he can 
continue for miles without deviating. No more, infers the philosopher, 
can the Christian refrain from sin all his life, though he may for a short 
time. True, but supposing the blind man were told that if he would 
make the effort and do .the best he could, a friendly hand should be 
outstretched to direct and guide his steps with unerring accuracy, then, 
I say he wotild be able, and if commanded to do it, he would be guilty 
if he did not comply. So the Christian, though he cannot by his own 
strength merely walk the road of holiness, unscathed by sin, yet if he 
will put on the whole armor of God, and lean upon the Divine arm that 
is held out to him, he may, and blessed be God for the help. 

We now proceed to some objections that may be urged against the 
views we are maintaining. We have already noticed some of the more 
formidable in our statement of the doctrine ; but there are others which 
demand a brief notice. 

The first is drawn from such passages of Scripture as these : « There 
is no man that sinneth not,' 1 Kings viii, 46. * For there is not a just 
roan upon earth, thatdoeth good and sinneth not,' £ccl. vii, SO. Our 
own opinion in regard to these verses is, that they simply teach that no 
man passes through life without committing sm — ^not that every man 
must sin in every period of his life. They may have a potential sense, 
* For there is no man that may not sin.' It would not be dtiScult to 



I 

A 



392 An Eaay an Ohri$iUm P«rf€ciian, 

show thftt tke original words will bear thifl meaningt and the aupposi- 
tion which precedes the first of these texts seems to require it J^they 
sin against thee, (for there is no man that sinneth not.) If implies 
contingency^ which is inconsistent with the certanUy supposed to be 
contained in the parenthetic clause. Should they sin against thee, for 
perhaps every man will, &c. This makes it all consistent, though we 
prefer our first interpretation. 

Examples from Scripture are often referred to for the same purpose. 
David sinned, and so did Peter. Granted, and what follows 1* Not 
that they even continued to sin all their lives, much less that all Chris- 
tians will do so. We do not deny that Christians may sin ; eminently 
holy men often have sinned, and a vast majority of the true followers 
of Christ are sanctified but in part. But it by no means follows that 
none can or do attain sinless perfection. If the examples of Scripture 
in which good men have fallen were ten times more numerous than 
they are, it would only prove what we do not deny, that the saints of 
God may have their sins. 

But it is said this doctrine fosters spiritual pride, and .lulls the soul 
into a deceitful security; I state the objection as I find it ; I am not 
sure that I understand it. If it mean that the belief of the doctrine 
fosters spiritual pride, I think it evidently unfounded. For if the 
Christian believes that he can attain this perfection, he must believe 
that he ought to attain it ; for every Christian knows that he should 
make the highest possible attainment in holiness. If then he beUeves 
he can be free from all sin, and yet feels that he is still cherishing sin 
in his heart, it will fill him with shame and humiliation rather than with 
pride. As soon should we expect that the voluptuary would be proud 
because he believes he can reform, or the sinner because he believes 
he can be' a Christian, as that the Christian should be, because he be- 
lieves he can be perfect But if the objection refers to those who 
claim to be perfect, the question arises, Are their claims well founded ? 
be they perfect or be they not ? If they are not, I grant as readily as 
the objector that these pretensions, whether the persons are deceivers 
or self-deceived, will foster pride and lead into sin. But with such per- 
sons we have nothing to do. This very pride proves infallibly that ihey 
are not perfect. B ut the fact that there are hypocritical pretenders to per- 
fection is no more objection to the doctrine itself, than the fact that there 
are hypocritical pretenders to piety is an objection to the common doc- 
trine of experimental religion. While we preach that sinners should 
repent and be converted and lead holy lives, there will be some that 
make pretensions to godliness who are, and who know themselves to 
be, yet in the gall of bitterness and the bonds of iniquity. And 
there will be others who imagine that thev are serving God, while 
they are yet entangled in thei meshes of Satan. !]^t he would 
be thought a singular reasoner, who should hence pretend that it 
was dangerous to advocate the doctr'me of experimental religion. — 
True piety in its lowest state is a foe to pride of every kind; 
much more so when it reaches perfection. What is pride but the 
offspring of a sinful heart ? It is one of the elements of our falUn 
nature. Just in proportion as we put off the old man, subdue the 
carnal mind, and restore the lost image of God to the soul, will 
pride disappear. He who has made the greatest progrearin holiness 



An Eiiay on Chilian pBrftction. 393 

will have the least pride, and he who is perfectly holy will be {perfectly 
humble. He that is free from all sin is of course free from pride. * 

But it is asked, If perfection is attainable, why are there none who 
are perfect ? On this question we shall make several remarks. In 
the first place, it takes for granted what we deny, vi^; that none have 
reached perfection. There are those who say l^ey are free from sio, 
and whose deep humility, godly lives, and self-denying labors in the 
cause of their Redeemer, leave no reason to doubt the truth of 'their 
pretensions. But these, it is said, are interested persons^ ; they wish 
t6 support their doctrine, an(]^ therefore are not impartial witnesses. 
Just the same objection is brought against the witnesses of our Savior's 
miracles and resurrection. * These,' says the inf.del, * are Christians ; 
they are interested persons-— party concerned ; they wish to support 
their doctrine, and therefore are not competent witnesses. Let those 
who are free from this bias — who are not Christians, testify to the mira* 
cles, and I will believe.' Who does not see that this is impossible ? 
The mind that admits the miracle admits the religion ; and the very fact 
that he testi^es to the resurrection of Christ, disqualifies him in the view 
of the infidel for being a competent witness. So in the case before us, 
an example is demanded of one who has attained perfect holiness. Ex- 
amples are produced. ^ These,' 'tis said, * are dreaming fanatics ; they 
believe the doctrine and wish to suj^ort it, therefore they are incompetent 
witnesses. Give us one who is not a perfectionist, and we ask no more.' 
Who does not see that this request is absurd. For one who denies 
that perfection can be attained, will not, of course, pretend that he has 
obtained it, and therefore can be no witness in the case. I repeat, 
therefore, there are those who- claim |o be perfect, and whose lives do 
not give the lie to thqir pretensions. These I offer as witnesses, and 
their testimony must stand ts true, till it is proved to be false. 

And these witnesses may be much more numerous than we suppose. 
Christian perfection is not a quality that will make a display in the 
world. It will not be proclaimed upon the house tops or at the cor- 
ners of the streets. On the contrary, he that has reached it is perfectly 
humble, and seeks not the notice or applause of the world. His whole 
object is to do his duty to God and his fellow men, and to wait in joy- 
ful expectation for the coming of his Lord, and I doubt not but on that 
day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, many a Christian 
who was unknown or despised in the world, will be found to have lived 
even here without stain and without spot, the perfect image of his Lord. 

But that the number of such is small, compared with tihe whole num- 
ber of Christians, I do not doubt. It is a melancholy fact, but no more 
so than another fact, that even in Christian lands a great majority of 
those for whom Christ died, and who believe in the importance of a 
change of heart, live without God and without hope in the world.— 
Owing to the wickedness of the heart and the wiles of the adversary, 
few comparatively even of good men reach this state of perfection, till 
death is swallowed up in glory. There are two other reasons why so 
few become perfect. One is, few believe the doctrine. We cannot 
expect to see it exemplified till it is believed. The other is, most per- 
sons entertain wrong views of it. They suppose it implies something 
superhuman, and therefore are deterred from efforts to reach it, which 
they would make, were their views correct. But man is not required 



394 On Preparaium to me$t God. 

to exercise the powers of an angel, or to poiisess the same degree of 
holiness as an angel, any more than he is required to know as mochas 
an angel. As to the probability that any will reach this state, we can 
only say, if our views are correct. Christians can and ought to be per- 
fect ; they also have a prevailing desire to be perfect. Is it not proba- 
ble that some of them will be perfect i 

Thus have we endeavored to explain the doctrine of perfection, and 
present some of the more prominent Scriptural proofs. If we have 
done any thing to free it from objections and exhibit it in its true light, 
we shall be abundantly rewarded for oyr Labor. , 



ON PREPARATION TO MEET GOD. 

▲ SERMON BY THE REV. H. W. BILLIARD, ▲. M., 

"^ Of the Alabama Confertnt. 
* Prepare to meet thy God,* Amos iv, 12. 

To comprehend the full force and spirit of this passage, we must 
examine those parts of the chapter with which it is immediately con- 
nected. It will be observed that the idolatry of the Israelites is 
severely rebuked ; they are reminded of the terrible judgments which 
had been inflicted on them, and of their own singular incorrigibleness. 

* And I also have given you cleanness of teeth in all your cities, and 
want of bread in all your places : yet have ye not returned unto me, 
saith the Lord. And also I have withholden the rain from you when 
there were yet three months to the harvest : and I caused it to rain upon 
one city, and caused it not to rain upon another city ; one piece was 
rained upon, and the piece whereupon it rained not withered. So two 
or three cities wandered unto one city to drink water, but they were not 
satisfied : yet have ye not returned unto me, saith the Lord. I have 
smitten you with blasting and mildew : when your gardens, and your 
vineyards, and your fig trees, and your olive trees increased, the palmer 
worm devoured them: yet have ye not returned unto me, saith the 
Lord* I have sent among you the pestilence afler the manner of 
Egypt : your young men have I slain with the sword, and have taken 
away your horses ; and I have made the stink of your camps to come 
up unto your nostrils : yet have ye not returned unto me, saith the 
Lord. I have overthrown some of you as God overthrew Sodom and 
Gomorrah, and ye were as a firebrand plucked out of the burning ; yet 
have ye not returned Unto me saith the Lord. Therefore thue will I 
do unto thee, O Israel : and because I will do this unto thee, prepare 
to meet thy God, O Israel. For lo. He that formeth the mountains 
and createth the wind, and declareth unto man what is his thought, 
that maketh the morning darkness, and treadeth upon the high places 
of the earth, the Lord, the God of hosts is His name.' 

There are two prominent»thoughts suggested by this sublime contro- 
versy between God and His people. First, that the judgments of God 
are not vindictive, but that men by persisting in a course of transgres- 
sion make it necessary that they should be punished. 

Very unworthy conceptions of the character of God are sometimes 
entertained. There are many who take but a partial view of His ad- 



On Preparation to meet Ood. 395 

ministration, and blind to the extended benevolence which characterizes 
it they condemn it as severe. They point to the expulsion from para-> 
dise, the deluge, the destruction of cities, the overthrow of nations, and 
other instances of the sigi^al punishment of sin, as illustrations of their 
view. They look to the punishment, but they forget its philosophy. 

God is benevolent : no truth can be clearer. The heavens above us 
de,clare it, and the earth beneath our feet teaches it It is illustrated 
in that wide regard which embraces the universe in all its amplitude, 
diffusing life and preserving harmony throughout the worlds ; and in 
that concern which we daily witness for the preservation of the hum- 
blest creatures that exist. Our Lord employed the sparrow and the 
lily as illustrations of this feature in the Divine character. la the 
sacred writings poWer is ascribed to God, and wisdom, and other quali- 
ties ; but St John declares that * God is love.' 

When then in viewing the Divine administration we discover instan- 
ces of punishment and suffering, we must account for them upon some 
other principle, than to suppose that they result from a disposition in 
God to create unhappiness. The great tendency of the. administration 
must be looked to ; the relation which the beings who suffer sustain to 
others must be regarded. 

■ That this view may be made clearer, let us examine some circum- 
stances in the history of mankind which will serve to illustrate and 
enforce it. The history of the plagues which were sent on Egypt, is 
thought by some to furnish a very strong argument against the mercy 
of the DWine administration. We think that its testimony is of a 
directly opposite character. To appreciate these events properly, we 
must regard the moral and religious condition of Egypt at the time 
when they occurred. Idolati-y of the grossest kind prevailed. It is 
said by an author, whom we shall call to our aid in remarking upon the 
miracles which were performed by Moses among the Egyptians, that 
though idolatry took its rise in Chaldea, * Egypt seems to have become 
at a very early period tinctured with that vice, while in the extent to 
which they carried it, all ancient writers allow that no people can be 
brought into comparison with the Egyptians. That brute worship 
originated in Eg3rpt, can we think be as little doubted, as that it gradu- 
ally arose out of the use of hieroglyphical writing, and at all events we 
know that it was practised there to a degree in itself irreconcilable 
with common reason.' 

Now it seems to us, that under these circumstances the introduction 
into Egypt of the Israelites, a people acquainted with the true God, 
must be recognized as a very favorable event for, the Egyptians.— 
When it became necessary to remove the Israelites from Sie land of 
their bondage and degradation, the^means employed to bring about this 
result were manifestly designed to benefit their oppressors by exposing 
the folly of their idolatry. 

The first plague to which God condemned Egypt to submit, was 
the conversion of the waters into blood. This strange effect was pro- 
duced by an instrumentality well calculated lo lead them to a knowledge; 
of God. Moses His servant barely smote the river with his rod.— • 
This very remarkable circumstance would have astonished any people, 
but it had a special application to the condition of Egypt The Nile, 
which gave fertility to their lands, was considered by the Egyptians m 



396 On Preparation to meet Ood. 

m 

god ; and jet it is ^ conrerted at the command of a servant of JeLovafa 
into a substance which none of their priests could touch or even ap« 
proach without pollution.' 

The plague of the frogs succeeded this, another unavoidable source 
of pollution. 

Then came the plague of the lice, and they were upon every man 
and beast throughout the land. *• Now if it is remembered that no 
man could approach the altars of Egypt on whom so impure an insect 
harbored, ^nd that the priests to guard against the slightest risk of con- 
tamination wore only linen garments, and shaved their heads and bodies 
every day, the severity of this miracle as a judgment upon Egyptian 
idolatry may be imagined.' 

While it lasted no act of worship could be performed, and so keenly 
was this felt, that the very magicians exclaimed, *' This is the finger 
of God.' 

The same principle is traced in the fourth plague, of which one of their 
deities was made the instrument. Swarms offlies came upon all the land. 

The fifth plague it is said struck at the root of the system of brute 
worship. It was the murrain among the cattle : * Neither Osiris, nor 
Isis, nor Ammon, nor Pan, possessed power to save his representa- 
tive ; and the sacred bull, and ram, and heifer, and he-goat were swept 
away by the same malady which destroyed others.' 

It is believed that the sixth plague was intended to rebuke the prac- 
tice of offering human sacrifices. This was done to propitiate 
Typhon, or the evil principle. There are reasons fbr believing that 
these victims were selected from the Israelites. Moses, by the direc- 
tion of Jehovah, approached the furnace where the victims were burned, 
and imitating the manner of the Egyptian priests, took a handful of 
the ashes, and casting them into the air, there eame instead of a bless- 
ing boils and blains, peculiarly obnoxious upon ail the people of the 
land. The inability of Typhon to protect his worshippers was thus 
shown. 

In the seventh plague it is said that Isis the god of water, and Osiris 
the god of fire, were the instruments. Lightning and hail came with 
tremendous power upon the land, and the horror of the Egyptians may 
be iniagined, when we remember * that Egypt is blessed with a sky 
uncommonly serene, that in the greatest part of it no rain falls from 
one end of the year to the other, and that even in such districts tis are 
watered from on high, a slight and transient shower is all that the 
inhabitants ever witness.' 

The eighth plague was that of the locusts, and while in itself a 
serious evil, it demonstrated the inability- of the gods Isis and Serapis 
to protect the land from their invasion. 

In the language of the writer whose course we have mainly followed 
in viewing these miracles, * The ninth plague was directed against that 
species of superstition, which, as it first broke in upon true religion, so 
it Seems to have held throughout the highest place in the estimation 
*o^the heathen. Light, that great god of Chaldea, was shown to be a 
mere creature in the hands of the Most High, and both the son and 
the moon were veiled during three days and nights from the eyes of 
their astonished worshippers. 

* The tenth and most tremendous judgment of all was, as indeed it 



On Preparation to meBt God» 397 

is represented to be, a perfect application of the law of reprisal to the 
stubborn and rebellious Egyptians. ** Thus saith the Lord, Israel is 
my son, even my first-born. Let my son go that he may serve me, 
and if thou refuse to let him go, behold I will slay thy son, even thy 
first-bom." Before this threat was carried into execution, every effort 
had been made to subdue the obstinacy of Pharaoh. Judgment ader 
judgment had been sent upon him and his subjects, by none of which 
were the children of Israel affected. His gods were shown to be no 
gods — ^his sacred river was made the source of defilement to him. The 
sun refused him its light, the locusts devoured his crops, yet none of 
all these things succeeded in convincing Pharaoh that Jehovah was 
supreme throughout the universe, and that it was his wisdom to obey. 
Then, and not till then, God raised his arm to strike, and the strength 
and the pride of Egypt perished in one night.' 

In this whole controversy we think &at the mercy of God was 
largely displayed. 

The history of the Israelites will furnish farther illustrations of our 
view. It is well known that they were very early distinguished as the 
people of God, and were peculiarly blessed. The manifestations of 
the Divine regard for them were such as to attract the observation of 
other nations. By a direct and most remarkable display of power 
God delivejred them from bondage ; the waters retired at their approach 
and lefl them a sure passage for their hosts, and then overwhelmed 
their puBsuers ; a heavenly banner waved over them by day and by 
night, and guided them on their way ; for them water gushed out of the 
rock, and food became abundant in the wilderness. In the red path 
of battle they were shielded, and the strength of nations was subdued 
before them. They enjoyed a glorious intercourse with the Almighty. 
His presence was with them, and His voice was heard in their midst ; 
its still', clear tones proclaiming His loving kindness. 

Now glance at the future history of this people. See them over- 
taken by calamities, visited with famine, the fertility of their lands 
destroyed, their beautiful places desolate, thousands sinking under the 
breath of pestilence, their young men slain with the sword, their 
strength. in wax vanquished, and their glory spoiled ; hear them siting 
in captivity, see them sitting in sadness upon the banks of strange 
rivers, far from their home, and their temple ; ^rvey all the scenes of 
their wonderful history, and then ask, * What has done all this V Here '^ 
is the arm of the Lord made bare against a people who were once 
cherished. . Can it be imagined that the administration of the Almighty 
is capricious t This mighty change in the condition of the Israelites 
is to be accounted for upon principles very clear and equitable. It was 
the result of their own transgressions ; the effect of that discipline 
which it is necessary for moral purposes, should be extended over all. 
Moses, the illustrious legislator of the Israelites, clearly predicted the 
sufferings of this people, and attributed them solely to their abandon- 
ment of duty. He represented to them how necessary it would be to 
punish rebellion, and while he promised as the reward of obtdience, 
the largest blessings, he assured his people that their sps must bring 
upon them distressing calamities. Whajt a melancholy sanction has 
history given to all that he uttered ! 
Why did the Israelites suffer from faipine t ^hat they might 9ee 
Vol. YI.—Octobtr, 1836. 34 



396 On Preparaiian to meW God. 

dieir folly in departing from the Lordt and return unto Him. This is 
to be learned from the 6th verse of the chapter from which we have 
selected our subject : * And I also have given you cleanness of teeth 
in all your cities, and want of bread in all your places, yet have ye not 
returned unto m«, smith the Lord,* Had the object been accomplished, 
their calamities would have been arrested. Their fields would have 
sniiled again, and put on their beauty afresh ;_ they would have been 
blessed with plenty ; their gardens, and vineyards, and iig trees, and 
olive trees would have been safe from the palmer worm ; they would 
have been strangers to the pestilence afler the manner of Egypt ; their 
young men would have escaped the sword ; their strength in battle 
would have remained undiminished ; their country would not have been 
desolate. 

Many other examples might be furnished which clearly exhibit the 
principle which we. have said characterizes the Divine administration. 
We shall present one more — Nebachadnezzar, the great king of Baby- 
lon. His vast possessions, his immense power, and the splendor 
which every where met his glance, had well nigh made him forget that 
Uiere was a greater being than himself. His greatness is said to have 
reached unto heaven, and his dominion to the ends of the earth.—" 
Kings were his vassals and tributaries. Egypt, Syria, Phoenicia, Ara- 
bia, swelled his vt^ealth. He was a conqueror ; the strength of his 
arms was acknowledged on the shores of the Euxine and Caspian seas, 
and to the Atlantic ocean. 

Babylon * the glory of kingdoms,' the city of palaces ; Babylon, with 
its gates of brass, its magnificent temples, its hanging gardens — ^Baby- 
lon was his. His own grandeur and the fate which awaited him were 
pictured to him in a dream. He seeks an interpreter. The prophet 
of the Lord unfolds the vision, and urges him to break off his sins by 
righteousness* and his iniquities by showing mercy to the poor. But 
power, pomp, wealth, splendor, intbxicated him. He looked forth 
upon the glory of his kingdom, and he was dazzled. He walked in 
the palace of the kingdom of Babylon, he looked upon its beautiful 
architecture fashioned by his own taste ; the city in its glorious splen- 
dor was at his feet, and as he gazed upon it, and the voices of the 
thousands who owned his sway broke upon his ear, his heart swelled 
with a lofty pride, and he exclaimed, * Is not this great Babylon, that 
I have built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power 
and for the honor of my majesty ?' In that very hour an unearthly 
voice fell upon the ear of the king of Babylon, saymg, * The kingdom 
is departed from thee.' He was driven from men ; his dwelling was 
with the beasts of the field. Tears passed away, and at length Nebu- 
chadnezzar rose up from his degradation, a wiser and a better man. 
He lifted his eyes to heaven, his understanding was restored, and he 
blessed the Most High. 

These reflections will, we trust, be sufficient to persuade us that the 
judgments of God are not vindictive ; but that the object contemplated 
even in the infliction of heavy punishment upon men, is their own true 
happiness. It is true the history of mankind unfolds sad scenes, but 
these may be traced to $in ; this * brought death into the world and all 
our wo.* 

It 18 for no idle purpose that the wnrth of flie Afanightjr goeth forth 



On Pir^rathn to iNf6<^ God. 399 

as a tempest — ^that nations are overthrown — ^the proudest tod ddest 
institutions prostrated— -one king pulled down and another raisjed up. 
The unseen Spirit of the Most High is there, bringing order out of 
confusion, educing good from evil. War, pestilence, famine, these 
are but iostruments directed by an invisible but mighty arm. Let us 
look around us. Are there no judgments now to be observed upon the 
earth ? Have they exerted their proper influence upon us ? 
. There is a disease which taking its rise in an idolatrous country has 
invaded nation after nation, until it hath been named * the scourge of 
nations :' it hath spared neither age nor sex — ^it bath not respected 
rank or power — but clad in gloom, and followed by lamentation and 
weeping, it hath gone on pushing its conquest of death wider and wider. 
Have we not shared in public calamities ? Have we suffered no pri^^ 
vate bereavements ? • Hath the hand of the Lord been upon us, and 
have we not yet returned unto Him ? Let us be warned by the fate of 
others not to persist in rebellion until the fearful admonition comes to 
us from insulted Heaven, * Prepare to meet thy God.' 

The second thought suggested by this subject is, that when the ob- 
ject contemplated by the judgments of God is not accomplished, those 
who have been subjected to them must prepare to meet God as an 
enemy. 

The message to the Israelites, upon which we are now remarking, 
is manifestly in the style of a challenge, and a sublime and unequalled 
description of the power of their great adversary is given, in the suc- 
ceeding verse. They are told to expect Him to come in His strength 
and take vengeance upon them, and they are . called on to consider 
whether they are able to contend with Him. 

Under this view let us consider the subject. That every man must 
meet God is certain. Reason and revelation both teach this. It will 
be sufficient here to remark, that it is declared by St Paul in his epistle 
to the Corinthians, that * We must all appear before the judgment seat 
of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, ac- 
cording to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.' 

That the hopeless nature of the controversy between God and His 
impenitent people may be fully perceived and felt, let us pursue the 
yiew of this subject presented by the prophet. No where have we met 
with any thing more sublime : ^ Prepare to meet thy Gx>d, O Israel. 
For lo, He that formeth the mountains and createth the wind, and de- 
ckureth unto man what is his thought, that maketh the morning dark- 
ness, and treadeth upon the high places of the earth, the Lord, the God 
of hosts is His name.' 

For /o. He that formeth the mountains. How forcibly does this 
represent the strength of God ; He that formeth the mawUaiiM. Com- 
pare these with the works of man. How long>does it occupy his skill, 
and industry, and strength to construct poor improvements and accom- 
plish little objects— -and these presently decay. But God throws a 
vast chain of mountains over a whole continent, and there they stand 
everlasting monuments of strength, witnessing the passing away of 
generations,' and the destruction of empires. Man with difficulty 
ascends their steeip sides, and standing upon their brow looks out upon 
plains and cities and rivers beneath hui feet. He that formeth the 
Mountains I 



X 



400 On Prepwraiian to meet God. 

X 

And ereaUth the wind. Not onlj is Hb power displayed in form- 
ing works of g;nindeur which frown upon the littleness of man and defy 
his strength — ^but He controls those things which are subtile and 
unseen ; which elude hi^ grasp and baffle his skill. The wind — ^what 
an instrument in the hands of God ! See the tempest as it sweeps 
over the earth in its unmeasured strength — ^prostrating forests — ^destroy- 
ing cities — hurling into ruin the proudest works of man : or, as it turns 
its terrible power upon the great deep$ scattering mighty fleets, sporting 
with 

* ArmamentB, which thunder^rike the walb 
Of rock-built cities,* 

rolling the billows mountain high against the resounding shore, and 
dashing the frail ship in pieces as a potter's vessel. 

And declareih unto man tvhat is his thought He reads the veiled 
secrets of the heart ; he penetrates the thoughts and purposes of art- 
ful man. Against the Almighty no policy can prevail ; all skill is baf- 
fled. What an adversary is this ! In the conflicts of human life 
prudence and enterprise are worth much, but in contehding with God 
their power is lost. 

That maketh the morning darkness. See the shades of night retiring, 

* For yonder comes the glorious king of day, 
Rejoicing in the^ast.' 

The earth rejoices under his brightness ; the birds are abroad with 

their songs, and men go forth to the business of life. Over half a 

world the glorious light is spread out, and the cheerful voice of life is 

heard. But lo, the Almighty arm is stretched forth — the sun is driven 

back in his course— his splendor is'veiled—- darkness falls upon the 

earth like a pall— -nature is hushed, and men grope their way in thick 

night. What a sublime strength is here displayed by the adversary of 

fnul man. This may be understood too to mean that upon the glory 

of life's young morning, He can bring the darkneiss of disappointment 

and despair. 

And treadeth upon the high pieces of the earth. It is believed that 
what is mainly intended by this is, that God is above all earthly dis- 
tinctions ; that the great and the mighty, and the poor and the humble, 
the king and the beggar, the palace and the hovel are alike to Him ; 
that He treadeth upon the proud, and vanquisheth the strong, and over- 
throweth fortified places. 

The Lord. The ruler — He whoin all things obey, whose empire is 
boundless. • 

The God of Jwsta is His name. How striking is this ; hosts are at 
his command. Look abroad ; strive to calculate the number of worlds 
which almighty power has created. Call in the aid of science and 
you are overwhelmed with the immensity of the contemplatjion.' Added 
to the number with which science is atquainted, there must be a mul- 
titude undiscovered. In the language of Dr.'Ohalmers, * What is seen 
may be nothirig to what is unseen : for what is seen is limited by the 
range of our instruments. Though this earth and these heavens were 
to disappear, there are other worlds which roll afar ; the light of other 
suns shines upon them ; and the sky which mantles them is garnished 
with other stars.' He illustrates his thought finely : ^ The universe at 
large would suffer as little in its splendor and variety, by the destruction 



«M!Niiotr 0fA$kUe R$v» Jame$ T o w n i i ^ * 401 

of our planet, as the verdure and sublime magnitude of a forett would 
mitfer by tbe fall of a single leaf.' 

Overall the mighty population of these countless worids die pow«r 
of God extends. Iiow utteclj hopeless then, must be a controversy 
with Him whose resources are so ample, who can call up from every 
world hosts to swell the ranks of His miffhty army. 

Who can meet God as an enemy ? If we remain impenitent, as an 
enemy He must be met ; the frail strength which we possess must 
coi^ict ^iik the power of die Almighty. 

What then is the part of wisdom ? A king goes forth with an army 
of ten thousand ; he spreads out his force in oattie array ; he awaits 
the hour of conffiet which is to decide his destiny. Presendy the 
sound of approaching hosts is borne upon the air and breaks upon his 
attentive ear, and upon a distant height he sees maiiy banners waving, 
and the gleam of a hundred thousand spears. The report comes to 
him that his force is vastly outnumbered, and that all is lost. Does 
he awieiit the coming of his foe, and expose his people to certain ruin t 
If he, is wise, in the language of our Lord, while the other is yet a 
great way oft, he sendeth an embassy anddesireth conditions of peace. 

Let us imitate this wisdom. Let. us meet God as penitents who 
need mercy. Then all the power He wields is exerted in our behalf, 
and as we look forth upon the heavens and the earth, and contemplate 
this counUess worlds which move in their ample sweep about die throne 
of God, and survey the mighty benevolence which breathes through 
ail and blesses all, we shall exclaim, < The Lord reigneth, let the earth 
rejoice ; let the multitudes of isles be glad thereof.' 



From the Wetleyui M«thodiit Maguine. 
MEMOIR OF THE LATE REV. JAMES TOWNLEY, D. D. 

BT THE RKV. ELIJAH HOOLE. 

The name of the late Rev. James Townley, D. D., is justly dear 
to an extensive circle of surviving relatives and friends ; it is held in 
affectionate remembrance by many thousands in the Wesleyan M edio- 
dist societies of which he was, from early life, a member and a minis- 
ter ; and it is knoWn and respected by many beyond that community, . 
in consequence of the interesting works which he published, and die 
services which he rendered, by his industrious researches, to the cause 
of learning in general, and to the lover of Biblical literature in par- 
ticular. 

Of suph a character it would be desirable to have a lengthened me- 
moir. Many are the valuable lessons it would suggest A history of 
increasing experience in personal religion, and of a holy walk with 
God ; of a ministerial career, whose precious results were the conver- 
sion of many souls from sin to holiness, and increase and edification 
to the Church ; and of that diligent study which, notwithstanding the 
unavoidable and frequent interruptions of numerous official avoeadons, 
was rewarded with an extensive knowledge of ancient ecclesiastical 
history, and a familiar acquaintance with Biblical criticism ; could not 
fail to be instniotive to all the followers of Christ, encouraging to tlie 

34* . ^ 



4M Memoir of the laie 12eo. Jcmts T<ntnky. 

jimii^ laboren in the same viaejard, and deeply intereating to suck as, 
under similar circumstances, are not unmindful of the pleasures and 
toils of literary pursuits. 

It is therefore regretted that materials for such a memoir do not 
exist. Dn Townley left no connected record of the circumstances of 
his life ; and it is to the recollections cherished by his fiietids, and a 
r^erence to his works, that we are chiefly indebted for the foUovring 
particulars. 

James Townley was bom of respectable parents in Manchester, 
May llth, 1774. His father, Mr. Thomas Townley, was in exten- 
sive business. His mother, a very sensible woman, was a regular 
attendant at the services of the established Church, and an occasional 
hearer at the evening services in the Methodist chapel. Her mater- 
nal faithfulness and affection were eminently conspicuous in the sedu- 
lous attention she paid to the best interests of James, her youngest 
child. The influence of this excellent parent's example and counsel 
was happily successful. Filial love and religious feelings were 
observable traits in the character of her beloved son even in infancy ; 
and when, as a youth, his thoughtless associates had carried him to 
the fascinating amusements of the theatre, her advice sufficed to 
induce him, at once and for ever, to renounce a gratification, which 
with a boyish folly he had persuaded himself was both innocent and 
beneficial. 

The care of his education was entrusted for some years to the late 
Rev. David Simpson, of Macclesfield : after his death he was con- 
tinued at the school of his curate, where he was instructed in some 
departments of classical literature, and passed through the usual rou- 
tine of dn £nglish education. 

Mr. Townley's early religious impressions were powerfully re- 
awakened by the solemn services connected with tbe funeral of the 
Rev. David Simpson, and particularly by the address then delivered ; 
an event which he frequently alluded to in afler life, and generally 
with deep emotion. He returned from the school in Macclesfield to 
Manchester, and became a member of the Methodist society. His 
course in the (Christian life was evidently progressive : *■ the spirit of 
bondage unto fear,' painfully disclosing to him the corruption of his 
nature, and the sinfulness of his life, was succeeded by the * Spirit of 
adoption,', which bore testimony to his believing heart of his interest in 
the redemption by the Lord Jesus Christ, effecting in him also that 
new and spiritual character which fitted him for the service of bis Di* 
vine Master in whatever sphere of life he might be called to move. 

The consistency of his religious profession and the gravity of his 
deportment, at this early period, may be concluded from the circum- 
stance, that in his seventeenth year he introduced family prayer into 
his father's house with the entire approval of his parents ; and when 
about nineteen years of age he began to labor as a local preacher in 
Manchester and its immediate neighborhood, under the direction of 
the venerable Alexander Mather. 

He did not enter upon this important work without much anxiety 
and serious reflection. He was greatly apprehensive of self-decep- 
tion, and feared to run before he was sent ; but his path brightened 
before him ; the ministry of the < word of reconciliation' beolune his 



Ibmatr oftht lai4 Rev. Jtmes 3Wii/<y. 40^8 

tdeligiit ; with mueh prayer, and entire dedication to God, he gave him* 
self to the work of the Lord. 

With a view to the direction of hi? future lifct he had heea placed 
in the house of an eminent cotton merchant in Manchester. His 
employer was a good and benevolent man, of another denomination of 
Christians, who knew how to estimate his integrity and piety ; and 
under such auspices, the prospects of Mr. Townley, in that metropo- 
lis of commerce and wealth, may be considered encouraging. But 
Providence had marked out for him another course. His employer, 
when informed by him that he wias about to quit his service to become 
an itinerant preacher in the Methodist connection, replied that he would 
not readily have consented to part with hhn for any other cause ; and 
either then, or at an immediately subsequent interview, he generously 
presented him with one hundred pounds, for the purchase of books, as 
a token of his regard. 

In his twenty-second year, Mr. Townley was received on probation 
as a travelling preacher by the Wesleyan Methodist conference. From 
this time till the year 1832, when by a failure of health he was com- 
pelled to retire, a period of six-and*thirty years, he continued, with 
uniform consistency and increasing honor, to fulfil his duties as a 
minister, and to occupy some of the most important offices of the 
connection to. which he belonged. 

Without particularly mentioning the different circuits to which he 
was successively appointed, it is sufficient to say, that many. persons 
in each of them have in remembrance his intelligent and faithful minis- 
try, tempered as it was with tenderness and discretion. In several 
instances his wise counsel and conciliatory deportment rendered him 
successful, under the Divine blessing, in allaying some degree of 
uneasiness which had been excited in the societies under his pastoral 
care. The advantages resulting from his wise and gracious ministry 
in Stockport are well remembered. In Warrington, duHng his stay, 
the chapel was enlarged, and the society greatly increased ; the debt 
which had burdened the society was also considerably reduced. In 
Bradford he saw a revival of the work of God, and under the date of 
January 19th, 1826, he writes, « Mr. T. H. Walker and I met some 
of the persons who have received good during the revival : seventy-six 
were present, who professed to enjoy the blessing of entire sanctifica- 
tioti ; and more than forty to have received a sense of justification. It 
was a most blessed time. Glory be to God alone.' Many indeed 
were the seals of his ministry ; even after he was laid aside by affliction 
bis heart was sometimes made to glow with gratitude, and his eyes to 
fill with tears, by the intelligence of one and another who had been 
brought to God under his ministry, and by his visitation of the sick in 
past years, when he had not been immediately acquainted with the fruit 
of his labors. 

The life of a Methodist preacher, attentive to the great business of 
his calling, is at all times one of much exertion ; his Sunday ministra- 
tions, and his daily engagements in the pulpit and at the bedside of 
tiie afflicted, throughout an extensive circuit, make large demands on 
his mental and physical energies. M|r. Townley found this to be the 
case in his own experience ; yet, by economy of time, and by perse-» 
vering diligeace, he successfully cultivated sacred literatore ; and pre- 



404 Mmair of ike hde Bm. JiitM Townkg. 

flMited to the world several pablieations of considentble merit and value ;^ 
beside those occasional compositions, which do not bear his name, 
some of them having only a temporary or local interest. 

In addition to the advantages of education, Mr. Townley had re- 
ceived the impulse arising from early literary associations. While ia 
Manchester he had become a member of a Philological Society, origi- 
nated by the late Dr. Adam Clarke ; and, in common with many other 
young men, was urged, by the example and exhortations of that cele- 
brated scholar, to great diligence in the pursuit of knowledge, the fruits 
of which were seen diroughout his future course. His first puUica- 
tion of note was a volume of « BibUcal Anecdotes,' which appeared in 
the year 1814. He had been desired by his children to preach Ihem 
a sermon on the history of the Holy Scriptures, and on the early trans- 
lations of them into different languages. As he found that they and 
others were delighted with the facts he had collected and arranged for 
their information, he 3rielded to the farther request of his fitmily, and 
prepared the volume already mentioned. In the Methodist Magazine 
for that year, it is said, that * the work aboimds with important and 
interesting matter, well digested and well expressed, and contains pro- 
per references to the authorities by which the historic facts recorded in 
it are supported.' 

The work which next proceeded from his pen was 090 which pro- 
cured to him considerable celebrity in the literary and religious world. 
Appearing about seven years after the publication of his ^ Biblical 
Anecdotes,' it affords striking evidence tiiat he continued his diligent 
researches into ecclesiastical history and sacred criticism, with unaba- 
ted ardour. It was entitled * Illustrations of Biblical Literature, exhi- 
biting the History and Fate of the Sacred Writings, from the earliest 
period to the present century, including notices of translators and other 
eminent Biblical scholars.' 

It was no small tribute to its worth, that a review of it^ for the Metho- 
dist Magazine, was written by qne of the most accomplished BiUical 
scholars of the present day. He thus describes it :*^^ These volumes 
present a connected view of the history of Biblical translati<ms from 
the earliest date to the present century, and are enriched by most 
copious and interesting biographical notices of the most eminent scho- 
lars and critics, and such occasional sketches of the history of the 
manners and superstitions of the darker ages, as may illustrate the 
advantages to be derived from a more general dissemination of the 
inspired writings.' 

The magnitude and extent of the research requiced in the compila- 
tion of this elaborate work can only be fully appreciated by those who 
have been engaged in similar pursuits. Many volumes had to be 
read, in some cases, for the composition of a single page, and those 
volumes in old monkish Latin or in obsolete French. To ascertain 
a date, it was often necessary to search and compare many writings of 
his predecessora ; and frequently had he to suspend his proceedings 
for several weeks, while waiting for books to be sent from Germany 
or other parts of the continent, to establish facts not otherwise to be 
coirectly ascertained. His residence for several years in the nei^- 
borhood of Manchester greatly favored his design, by tdTording him 
free and cimatant access to the collegiate lilu'ary in that town ; an 



Memoir of (he late Rov. Jamee Townley. 



405 



establishment so rich in ancient Biblical literature, that, when the late 
Archbishop of Dublin was compiling his work on the Atonement, he 
resided several weeks in Manchester for the sole purpose of having 
uninterrupted reference to the books there deposited. 

The literary excellence of Mr. Townley's erudite and valuable work 
was acknowledged in almost every respectable periodical of the day ; 
and procured for him from an American university the well earned 
honor of the degree of Doctor in Divinity ; an honor equally creditable 
to those who conferred it, and to him who received it. He was con- 
sidered by most literary men as happy in the choice of a subject on 
which to employ his industry and embody its results. He delighted 
in his task ; and subsequent to the publication of his work in three 
volumes, pursued the saihe subject with so much diligence, as to 
amass a quantity of most interesting information equal to one of the 
preceding volumes, which it was his design to incorporate with his 
work in a second impression, and which, by the adoption of a smaller 
type, he purposed to compress into two volumes. Many were the 
communications he received compUmentary to his talents. On his 
visit to Ireland, as president of the conference, in the year 1830, 
he was congratulated by several members of the Dublin Univer- 
sity, and the highest encomiums were pronounced on his perform- 
ance. The whole of the first edition having been sold, all the preachers 
of the Methodist conference in Ireland gave their names as subscri- 
bers to a second edition, the publication of which would have proved 
generally acceptable, and was called for by many ; but his circum- 
stances did not warrant him, however desirous, to venture on a specu- 
lation so extensive ; the additional matter, therefore, still remains in 
manuscript. 

f Doctor Townley was not insensible to the commendations bestowed 
upon his work ; nor was he unmindful of the credit reflected by it on 
the body of Christians with which he was connected. Had he written 
solely for fame, he might have been content to desist from farther au- 
thorship ; but he still continued his literary pursuits in the same useful 
direction. ' In 1824 he published a volume of ' Essays on various 
subjects of Ecclesiasticad History and Antiquity.' Several of these 
elegant compositions had previously appeared in the Methodist Maga- 
zine and other periodicals ; yet the volume was well received. It con- 
tains much curious information concerning the early corruptions of 
the patriarchal religion, and on the subject of Christian antiquities, 
not to be found collected together in any other book in the English 
language. 

The next contribution of Dr. Townley to the literature of his coun- 
try was a translation into English of the * More J^Tevoehim of Maimo- 
nides ; or. Reasons for the law of Moses,' with prefatory dissertations 
and appended notes, displaying considerable acquaintance with Jewish 
learning, and the results of much patient research. Rabbi Ben Mai- 
mon was a Jewish physician of great literary note in the thirteenth 
century. It appears to have been his object to show that many of the 
ceremonial precepts of the Mosaic institution were rational and just, 
independently of the spiritual mefming which may be conveyed by 
them. His book does not assume a controversial form ; and perhaps 
was not intended a» an attack on Christianity, but rather to embody 



406 JUTemotr of i&e laie Rtv. Jomet Townhy. 

certaia iUiutratioiis of the Levitical code, for the Informatum of sucH 
Jews as might be curious in matters of their law. It was a boon to 
the world to present in an English dress a book so constantly refened 
to by Biblical critics, and widiout which no library of Scripture criti- 
cism can be considered complete. For the composition of the doc- 
tor's own portion of this volume, the best authors were consulted ; the 
essays and notes are drawn'up with great judgment and clearness, and 
drew forth the most gratifying commendations from high and respecta- 
ble quarters. But works merely critical rarely acquire sudden popu- 
larity ; they are but slowly introduced to the library of the studious ; 
it takes time and frequent reference to discover their value. The 
doctor had experience of this in the sale of this vt)lume, which is yet 
only partially known ; and it is not improbable, that the disappointment 
arising from this circumstance prevented the desired appearance of the 
second edition of his ' Illustrations of Biblical Literature.' 

Doctor Townley's last publication was an ' Introduction to the criti- 
cal study of the Old and New Testaments,' embodying much of that 
correct and interesting information which his peculiar taste and read- 
ing had rendered familiar to him. This volume has been very widely 
circulated, and is much admired. It is fully worthy of the piety and 
talents of its author. The book of God was his favorite study, and 
the productions of his pen chiefly tended to aid those who love to fol- 
low him in tracing its interesting l^story, and are desirous to under- 
stand its sacred contents. 

In 1826 Dr. Townley removed from Bradford to J^ondon, and was 
associated with three others in the pastoral care of the Queen-street 
circuit-; and at the conference of 1827 he was appointed to the oner- 
ous and responsible office of general secretary to the Wesleyan Mis- 
sionary Society. In this capacity he maintained the reputation of his 
previous life. His colleagues found him amiable and affectionate ; he 
was ready for every public service ; and he willingly bore a du6 share 
of the heavy responsibility connected with the management of the im- 
portant interests of the society at home and abroad ; while the mis- 
sionaries found in him a faithful and wise counsellor and an unvarying 
friend. 

Connected with the missions, he entertained a wakeful solicitude 
for their welfare, and indulged a ^ra^eful exultation at their success. — 
Yet he almost necessarily took that view of the spread of Christianity 
which his reading and previous pursuits were calculated to suggest — 
He projected a History of Christian Missions, to embrace all the im- 
portant facts on record, in every language, relating to any mission of 
whatever Church, for the conversion of mankind to the* knowledge and 
faith of Christ : — a work which, if successfully executed, would have 
possessed uncommon interest and value. It would have brought out 
of obscurity the names of many who, in ancient times, were highly 
honored of God in the instruction and moiral subjugation of many 
savage and pagan tribes of £urope, as welt as of Africa and Asia ; it 
would have edified the Church by memorials of the most active piety 
and patient zeal ; it would have afforded the best means for comparing 
the mpdes of operation and the success of ancient and modem mis- 
sions ; and would have placed in striking contrast the missions of 
nominal Churches, merely political in their bearing and character, with 



Memoir of the late Rev. JavfUa Titvonley. 407 

those which have their origin in Christian zeal, and whose object is 
the glory of God in the salvation of the souls of men. 

When Dr. Townley's habits of research and practised ability in the 
examination of ancient records are considered, and the facts already 
stored in his memory by extensive reading, and the friendly terms of 
correspopdence with which he was favored by one of the librarians of 
the Vatican, and by other literati at home and abroad, as well as the 
constant communication he held with missionaries in every part of the 
world, it cannot but be regretted very deeply, that, while holding the 
oflBice of secretary to the Wesleyail Methodist Missionary Society, he 
had hot leisure to carry his projected work into effect ; and that, afler 
he had retired from the labors of public life, his state of health never 
permitted him to resume those habits of arduous literary toil which he 
had formerly cultivated, and which were necessary to the accomplish- 
ment of so laborious and comprehensive an undertaking. Under the 
effects of a distressing and debilitating indisposition, and with the dis- 
advantage of an entire exclusion from his own library, being then in 
temporary lodgings in Ramsgate for the recovery of his health, he 
di*ew up a very interesting sketch of the history of some of the most- 
remarkable missions of the Christian Church, ancient and modem, 
which was first read ip part at a meeting of the Local Branch Mis- 
sionary Society, smd afterward adorned the pages of sonie successive 
numbers of the Methodist Magazine for the year 1834 ; affording, 
however, but a faint idea of what the projected work would have been, 
had circumstances favored its execution. 

At the conference held in Sheffield, July and August, 1829, Dr. 
Townley was elected to the chair ; and thus received the highest honor 
Methodism confers, and the most decided proof of the confidence and 
love of his brethren in the ministry. 

His ^.ven piety, his amiable mildness, and his usual ability, were as 
conspicuous while he held the office of president of tl^e conference as 
they had been in a more private station. He was equally beloved and 
respected ; his official visits to various parts of the connection were 
seasons of great religious enjoyment to those with whom he was called 
io associate, a remembrance of which is gratefully cherished in many 
hearts. The year of his presidency was one of great peace, and of 
some enlargement to the Methodist society. The writer of this me- 
moir had the privilege of being associated with Dr. Townley at the 
Mission House, for the whole of that^ear, and can personally testify 
the sacred anxiety with which he regarded every interest of the con- 
nection at home and abroad, and his daily attention to the various duties 
of his office. 

Before the close of this year of honorable labor, Dr. Townley's 
health began seriously to decline. By the preceding British confer- 
ence he had been appointed to preside at the Irish conference of 18d0. 
With this object he proceeded to Dublin in the month of June ; and 
during his stay his attention to business was almost incessant ; while 
his sterling character, his pleasing manners, and his interesting conver- 
Bational powers, had the effect of endearing his society not only to the 
preachers assembled in conference, but also io the literary, intelligent, 
and pious, of every rank and denomination to whom he was introdu- 
ced. It would appear, however, that his exeitkMM were greater than 



408 Memoir of the late Rev. Jamee Townley. 

his constitution was fitted to sustain. On his return to England he 
proceeded to Leeds, to preside, in the course of his official duty, at 
the committees preparatory to the conference then about to assemble ; 
but it became apparent that' he was struggling against pain and exhaus- 
tion ; and when he was relieved by the election of his successor, it was 
found necessary to take medical advice, and for the present to avoid 
farther exertion. 

From this period his constitution never fully recovered its tone : for 
two additionaJ years, however, he retained the laborious office of sec- 
retary to the missions ; but retired as a supernumerary at the con- 
ference of 1832, when it was apparent that his days could only be 
prolonged by a total cessation from the cares and business of public 
life. , 

For this event his mind had been prepared by the painful and alarm- 
ing character of his indisposition, which had been increasing for seve- 
ral months, and by the consequent inability to take the whole of his 
duties as secretary ; yet it cannot be imagined that he was removed 
from a work of so much interest and responsibility, to a station of 
comparatively useless retirement, without deep emotions of heart. — 
But he laid himself in the dust before God, and acknowledged that, 
after he had done all, he was an unprofitable servant. 

In the autumn of 1832 he removed from London to Bamsgate ; and 
when settled there, . resuming his privilege as a private member of 
society, he united himself to a class, and received his quarterly tick- 
ets with thankfulness. In the holy communion of this little- Christian 
assembly, of which for a short time before his decease he became the 
leader, he was accustomed to express himself in terms so humble and 
self-abasing as to excite the admiration and love of those who, listened 
to him ; and afforded a practical instance of the combination of exalted 
attainments in spiritual knowledge with true lowliness of heart. 

Soon afler his removal to Bamsgate the more distressing symptoms 
of his complaint in some measure subsided ; his spirits resumed a 
cheerful tone, and a partial recovery of his strength encouraged the 
indulgence of hope that he might yet be spared many years to his 
family and to the Church. He preached once in Bamsgate without 
experiencing any extraordinary weariness or other inconvenience ; he 
afterward visited Margate, and preached at the anniversary of the 
Missionary Society. The exertion, however, proved to be too great 
for his strength ; he relapsed into a state of severe pain and great 
debility, from which he never afterward recovered. 

Meantime his spirit was evidently ripening for the holy society of 
heaven ; he possessed his soul in patience, and his mind was gra- 
ciously supported. Toward the close of his last illness his symptoms 
became very distressing, and his offerings were extreme ; but his con- 
fidence in God was unshaken ; he reposed on the satisfaction of Christ, 
and, rejoicing in the hope of everlasting life through Him, he could 
even ' glory in tribulation also.' His sufferings terminated December 
12th, 1833, when he died in«great peace, and in the full triumph of 
faith. , He was in the sixtieth year of his age. 

Dr. Townley was twice married. His first union with Miss Mary 
Marsden, of London, had a happy continuance of nearly thirty years, 
and was eminently <;ottducive to his domestic happiness, and to his 



Memoir of the late Rev. James TowtUey. 40d 

usefulness in the Church of God. He had a mind veiy sus(:eptible of 
socia] enjoyment ; and therefore deeply felt the loss of his deservedly 
much beloved wife. At die time of her decease they had seven sur* 
viving children ; -their eldest son, a youth of much piety and of pro- 
mising talent, having died before her, to the great grief of his parents, 
at the age of twenty-two. 

He entered a second time into the marriage state with Miss Dinah 
Ball, of LondoEi ; a lady well able to appreciate his character. It was 
her mournful gratification to minister to his comfort in his declining 
health, and to smooth his passage to the grave. She and his children 
are now left for a season to sor?ow over a painful bereavement, and a 
temporary separation from one who must always live in their dearest 
affections. But they ' sorrow not as those without hope ;* they rejoice 
in the glorious state of their departed relative : in his life and death 
they have an example bright and attractive, urging on them an addi- 
tional incentive and encouragement to be ^followers of them who 
throdgh faith and patience inherit the promises.' 

Dr. Townley possessed naturally an excellent disposition, which, 
sanctified and exalted by the power of Divine grace, rendered him 
truly amiable. In all the domestic and social relations of life he was 
an object of affection to a degree not ordinarily attained ; while the 
judgment which tempered the disinterested tenderness of his character 
procured for him reverence, as well as love, from those who composed 
the circle of his own family. His daughter Ann says, * The beauty 
of my dear father's home character • could never be fully appreciated 
by those who had not come under its influence. In all the common 
occurrences of life he displayed a refinement of feeling, and a deli- 
cacy of consideration for the feelings of others, that is rarely met with. 
His friends knew him to be kind, generous, and sympathizing ; but 
they little knew how tenderly affectionate, how free from every selfish 
thought, his fhmily found him. During his last indisposition there was 
a rapidly maturing spirit strikingly evidenced in his manner of con- 
ducting family worship. His prayers, at all times characterized by 
child-like simplicity, became, during his long and painful illness, so 
full of faith and fervor, so evidently recogiiizing^ the gracious intentions 
of his heavenly Father in taking the seat of the refiner, that many tin^s 
have we risen firom our knees with the overwhelming conviction that 
the furnace had not been heated in vain, that ^e silver was purged 
from the dross, and the process would prove a final one. In the midst 
of the most intense agony there was a calm and holy reposing on the 
bosom of his Savior that told to all that patience had had her perfect 
work. If pain and spasm wrung from hinf an involuntary indication 
of suffering, it was invariably followed by an acknowledgment of the 
hand that moved the rod. The emphasis widi which at such moments 
he would say, *♦ My Father!'* " My Sanctifier!" I shall never forget-r- 
At other times he would exclaim, ** O take me home, take me home !" 
and then, with watchful jealousy lest he should encroach upon the 
supremacy of his Redeemer's wilil, he would add, ** But not my n^l^ 
not my #ill, but thine, be don^ ; when thy work is accomp]iished ; at 
thine own appoiiHed time;'' with other expressions of the bke nature.* 
In his intercourse w^ general society he affected not the high bear« 
mg wUch sometimes clings to men of age and reputation : 'tiie youn^ 
Tot. Yl OeiobiT, 1835. 36 



♦^ 



410 Memoir of (&e tele Sev. Jiamet TotM/qf. 

«8 w^ 80 die mature eou^t the pleasure of Ua cheerful and instnietive 
conyersation ; the afflicted were often aoothed by his attentions and 
sympathy ; and to all his countenance was the index of a kind and 
peaceful heart, the seat of the truest philanthropy, because under the 
influence of Divine love. 

His character as a Christian was remarkably uniform and consistent. 
He had high views of what the follower of Christ should be ; his aim 
was to imitate and follow his.heavenly Master. In the regulation of 
his own daily conversation and conduct he was eminently successful. 
His kindness of heart did not render him insensible to sin in others ; 
but in reproving a fault, he united delicacy with faithfulness in such a 
manner as seldom to fail in producing the desired effect, and in making 
an indelible impression. 

His literary acquirements gave him great advantage as a minister of 
the word of God ; often furnishing him with happy illustrations of Di- 
vine truth new to his hearers, and serving, with a iaithiul application, 
to fasten it permanently in their memories and hearts. The language 
of his public ministrations, though strictly extemporaneous, was dhvays 
chaste and good ; and if his sermons did not bear the traces of inge- 
nuity which distinguish the. pulpit eloquence of some eminent men, it 
is sufficient to remark that they bad the excellence of a clear exposi- 
tion of Scripture doctrine, and a judicious selection from those stwes 
of knowledge which proved him to be a scribe well instructed in the 
Gospel of the kingdom, bringing from his treasures things neW and 
old. The only sermon he ever prepared for the press is to be found 
in a volume of sermons by various Wesleyan ministers, published at 
the conference office in 1833 : it treats on l)is favorite subject, is writ- 
ten in an elegant style, a^d is fully worthy of the place it occupies 
among the admirable sermons of which the volume is composed. 

But in no circumstances did his character shine with greater lustre 
than in affliction. For the last few years of his life he was a subject 
of many severe trials, personal and domestic. Every member of his 
family recollects the tenderness of his sympathy, and the unwearied 
kindness of his attentions, when sickness was allowed to visit them. 
Many times in the day, on some occasions, with his dearest earthly 
friend, would he approach the throne of grace ; on the reception of 
painful tidings he would seek his aid in God, and having oommitted the 
matter to his heavenly Father, he would unhesitatingly say, ^ Thy will 
be done.' His resignation, and his unwavering confidence in God, had 
much influence even on his literary character : some^of his most valued 
writings were composed while affectionately v^atching, through the 
silent night, the sick bed of his late afflicted wife. The same cheerful 
confidence predominated during his own afflictions : for many years 
he suffered from a periodical head-ache, which usually n^e it neces- 
saiy for him to stand nearly four«and-twenly hours in a bailing position 
against the wall, and occurred about eveiy fortnight ; but, under this 
altering, and during his last painfiil and protracted illness, he never 
murmured, but was entirely resigned to the Divme will. The heat of 
the furnace did not consume, but only refii^e and brighijen, his excel- 
lencies. In him was seen a practical illu^tiatipn.of the reasonableness 
of « glocyinff in tribulation also.' And in contmplatiQg such instences 
of £e i^umcienc; of Divine grapei ip ti^e eiliem^ trials of human 



J^fo$$0r ShiOf^B £w«y. 411 

Balore, we leara the moral eflbct of diat doctrine of Christiaiiity he so 
cordially embraced, * That the eufTeringa of the present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.' 
To conclude: ascribing all the honor to th^ abounding mercy and 
grace of God, we exhibit the Christian character of the subject of this 
memoir as an example worthy to be emulated, and coincide with the 
sentiment expressed by the writer of a review of one of the doctor's 
valuable works, that * such men as Dr. Townley are ornaments to 
human nature.' 



PROFESSOR STUARTS ESSAY. 

The following Essay was written last September, in reference to a 
premium offered by the executive committee of the Revival Tract 
Society, for * a tract on the question, What is the duty of the Churches 
in regard to the use of fermented (alcoholic) wine in celebrating the 
Lord's Supper?' The writer received, soon afler the question was 
proposed to the public, a special request from some one connected 
with the proposal^' as he has a right to presume, (although the letter 
was anonymousf]| ti|9.t he would write upon this question. Accordingly 
he wrote, and his piece was handed in to the depository named in the 
proposals, early last October. Before it was sent, it was read to some 
friends in Albany, deeply engaged in promoting temperance measures, 
in order to see whether the. sentiments were such as they embraced 
and were willing to defend. Those friends were pleased to signity 
their approbation of the sentiments contained in the piece. Immedi- 
ately after this it was sent to the depository, and alEler lying there for 
nearly seven months, and nothing being said to the puUic respecting 
any determination of the committee who were to judge of the merits 
of the pieces sent in, it was, at the request of the friends in Albany 
and in accordance with the express desire of the writer, withdrawn from 
the depository, in order to be published. 

This statement is not designed in any measure to inculpate the com- 
mittee of adjudication, the depository, or the executive committee of 
the Tract Society ; for the writer is wholly ignorant of the circumstan* 
ces which led to such, an unusual delay, excepting that he has heard 
that the pieces sent in were mislaid, and for a time not to be found. 
Not feeling any anxiety to secure the premium, even if this might have 
been done, (of which of course he* cannot feel any assurance,) and sin- 
cerely wishing to aid his friends in Albany in the great and good cause 
in which they ace engaged, he has withdrawn the piece from tl^e depo- 
sitory for the sake of publication in the Albany periodicals, at the 
present time. 

The .writer is almost afraid to make the statement as above, lest it 
should l>e thought to be his intention to cast some blame on those con- 
cerned with the proposal or adjudication of the question, which was 
originally the occasion of his writing. He entirely disclaims any such 
motive. He fully believes that no one concerned in the business had 
the remotest intentions of any improper dealing with the pieces sent in. 
He makes the present statement only to account for the form, manner, 
and occasion of the piece. , . lilosss Stua.rt. 

•dndover, I%eol. iSem., May 4, 1835. 



4 12 Prqf€$$or Smart's JBwoy. 

What it the duty of the Churehe$f in regard to theuH oj 
(alcoholic) tome, in celebrating the Lord^e Supper ? 

A satisfactory answer to this question is necessarily connected with 
the present state of the temperance question in general. What posi- 
tions in respect to this may be regarded as well established, and what 
still remain in a greater or less degree doubtful, are inquiries that of 
course precede the discussion of the subject immediately before us. 

A brief answer to these inquiries is all that can be expected on (his 
occasion ; and in reality such an answer is all that is desirable. So 
widely diffused at present are the excellent publications in different 
parts of our country, on the subject of temperance, that there is no 
reader in any of the Mralks of life, who may not have access to a know- 
ledge of its leading principles, and few indeed to whom they are not in 
some degree known. 

The points that are universally admitted by reasonable and consi- 
derate men, of whatever denomination or party, may be summarily 
stated as follows : — 

1 . All intoxication is forbidden by the Scripttires, and by the laws 
of our physical nature. Those who do not admit tlfe authority of the 
Bible will concede that intoxication is injurious t^' health, usefulness, 
estate, morals, and reputation. It follows, 

2. That all such use of intoxicating liquors of any kind, as will pro- 
duce drunkenness, or injure health or usefulness, is unlawful. 

Argument on these subjects is no longer necessary for the mass of 
our community, and surely it is not needed for Christians. Among 
these, moreover, and among all sober and judicious men in our com- 
munity, with few exceptions, the following positions may be regarded 
as fully and finally established j viz.. 

That the habitual and common use of ardent spirits, or distilled in- 
toxicating liquors in any form, or the manufacturing and vending of 
them for common use as a drink, is an immorality. 

The United States Temperance Convention, held at Philadelphia, 
and composed of more than four hundred delegates of highly respecta- 
ble character and great influence, the state temperance convention 
held at Worcester in Massachusetts, composed of more than five hun- 
dred delegates from all parts of that commonwealth, a similar conven- 
tion held at Utica in the state of New- York, another at Middletown in 
Connecticut, also at Columbus in Ohio, and at Jackson In Mississippi 
— state conventions, moreover, in Vermont, Maine, and New- Jersey ; 
a convention of cities in New-Tork ; several legislative and judicial 
temperance societies, and particular societies in counties, towns, dis- 
tricts, and parishes, with several thousands of Christian Churches, have 
all united in the expression of the bpinion, that the' habitual use of ar- 
dent spirits, or the manufacturing and vending of them as a common 
drink, t^ an immorality. There are still, I acknowledge, some pro- 
fessed Christians who^have doubts respecting this ; and of course they 
are not satisfied that the practices in question are an offence against 
the laws of Christ, which ought to subject a member of a Church to 
its discipline. The number of these however, is evidently diminishing ; 
and we may believe and trust that the time is not far distant, when 
there will be an opinion among all professed Christians in our country. 



whieh will ace«»d with the present preyaiiing eentiaieiit at least ia 
extenaiyelj as temperaace itself prevaib. 

Among no class of citizens is^tbe o|»aion that drinking axdent sfmits 
is ii^urious more widely disused or more firmly held, than among phf" 
•stcwnif. To their distinguished hcmor be it said, that contrary to their 
pecuniaiy and worldly interests, they have come forward, and already 
inore ttum two ihauiand of them haye testified that in no case does 
. driddng of ard^^ spirits promote health ; that it increases exposure to 
disease, and renders the management of thisr when ezisting« mudi more 
d^eolt, and the issue more dangerous. 

- Thia testimony being allowed, (and who is competent to contradict 
it 1) it foQows, that tht me ofardeni tpirit a» a etmimon drink is anh 
ng€ttn$i our pkgoieal nature. The unbeliev^ therefore, who {Hrofesses 
to be only the disciple of natural rel^ion, as well as he who admits 
the authority of revelation, must confess that the general and particu- 
lar temperance conventions of our land, assembled for the sake of dis- 
cussing questions pertaining to the subject (^vtemperance,liaveHgfatly 
decided that the using or vending of ardent spirit as a common ^ink 

IS AH IMMOBALITT. 

Such then are the general positions at present, in regard to the siibo 
ject of temperance, positions which may now be taken as a basis for 
future argument and action. Accordingly I shall so consider them, m 
the. remainder of this Essay ; and consequently I may leave them with- 
out farther remark. . 

But there is one interesting part of this great subject which yet 
remains in some degree unsetUed in the minds of many sober and ex- 
cellent men. A great part of the temperance conventicHis and societies 
have as yet, in tfaeirdiscussions and decisions, left the question respectr 
ing the use ofvnneM untouched. It is well that they have done so ; for 
it is always best in such great matters as this respecting temparancot 
first to produce, if possible, union of sentiment and actiotf'o'n points 
that are of a plainer and more fundamental nature. This being donot 
and Uie general subject being better understood by a course ef discus- 
sion and experiments, points that seemed to be difficult or doobtliil at 
first may finally have such light cast upon th^n as that a general umoo 
of sentiment may be produced respecting them. 

Some of the geaend conventions, however, on the subject of tempe- 
rance, and many local societies and Churches, have already considered 
the question as it respects loines and every species of intoxicating liquors,, 
and have decided the broad and general principle, that duty rtquireo ub^ 
sHnence raoM all intoxicating Liauoiu of every kind emd name. 
The simple basis of their reasoning may be stated in a few words. 

*' The Scnipteues forbid all inioaication, in any degree. Theiawa 
of our physical and mental nature equally forbid it ; because both hodf 
mod mmd areJnjored by it. No species of liquor which. intoxicates 
ean foe used habitually, without great danger of forming an excessive, 
attachment to it ; for so &e universal voice of experience decides.—* 
"Sfo person, therefcffe, can indulge himself in the habitual or firequont 
use of any liquor which has an inebriating quality, without at the saoM 
time ineuznn^ tiie danger of fomong a habit which will prove injniious 
to hiiiH and a^doh may be filial. Now it cannot be innocent nor goik 
mateat ftr ftose who are taught to'pray. Lead me not tiifo (wfiMi^ 

36* 



414 Pr€fmor SimrVi JB$imi. 

tluis Toluntarilj to rash into it. It is a settled poiat— H>ne now past aH 
dispute — that wat£R is the best and safest ot all brinks* N» 
other liquor therefore can be nueuury ; some mecticiaal cases only 
excepted, which need not be and are not here brought into the aecount 
It follows then, since water is the best of all drinks, and sinee no intox* 
icadng liquor can be taken either habitually or frequently widiout dan- 
ger, that it is contrary to the true spirit of Christianity uid to the laws 
of our physical and intellectual nature, to indulge in the fsequent or 
habitual use of wine, or of any other liquor whi<£ can inebriate.' 

Thus do the Churches and societies argue, who hare proscribed the 
common use of wine. Most of them advance indeed still farther.-— > 
They are willing to make the supposition that wine does bo harm as a 
common drink, in order to present the most favorable side of the aigu- 
ment to those who differ from them in opinion. Allowing now for the 
sake of argument that it does no harm, they have still another and an 
important question to ask, viz., Doti it do any good ? Physically or 
mentally, (a few cases of b<Nlily indispositimi excepted,, where stimu* 
lant is temporarily reqtiired,) habitual or ofte» repeated stimulus does 
no good, except merely to gratify the taste. All well educated and 
sober physicians are now agreed that habitual or frequent stimulus of 
any kind must not only do no good, but inevitably do hann in the end. 
The reason is very plain. He who takes stimulus in health can derive 
little or no benefit from it in sickness. The gratification <^ taste then 
seems to be the only good that is to be accomplished by the common 
or frequent use of wines. But is this of so high and noble a nature 
that it shouU be sought aflter and indulged in by a Christian at the ex- 
pense uid haaard which must of necessity attend it ? And beside, it 
is quite certain that the drinkers of pure water acquire a higher retish 
for that element, and have more enjoyment in partaking of it than 
ever falls to the lot of those who habitually indulge in the drinking of 
vine. Those who have made a fair experiment of both may be confi* 
dently appealed to for a decision on this question. 

To the inquiry then, Does the drinking of wine often or habitually 
do «iy good f the persons in question suppose we may answer without 
any hesitation, that it accomplishes no importdni good ; that it sacrifi- 
ces a greater good, even on the score of taste only ; and that the dan- 
ger wStk which it is ts/wat/^ attended makes it at the very best a practice 
of great hazard. 

. The writer of this, who for a long time after the efforts to bring about 
the temperance reformation had commenced,, did not think it expedient 
to bring forward the discussion respecting winesr'is persuaded that the 
tkn^ has now come, in which the question should be fully and fairly 
disifilssed. After often and deliberately examining the subject prof- 
fered by the question, what is the fundamental inquiry for every true 
friend of temperance to make^ in order te satisfy himself as to die 
course which duty now bids him to take ; he cannot perceive that this 
inquiry can amount to more or lees than what is contained in the que^ 
tion : Is intoxication itself, or only tke MBTHon in whick iiUoxica^ 
<ie» ts produced^ the main mbfect of our concern ? 

How can the sober inquirer after simple truth and duty hesitate as 
to the answer which should be given to this last question 1 Is it of 
any seriou9 importance to a man, either as it respects his body or mind» 



or of any serknit importanee to society, whether he intoxiealee htmeelf 
with rum, or brandy, or gin, or wnie,^ or any other sfHrkuous liquor ? 
I admit that some of these liquors are more costly than others, and 
some of them more immediately and highly deleterious than others* 
Drunkards upon ale prepare for a speedy osmfication of the heart, and 
mmt expect a sudden death. Newly dtetiMed whiskey and oUier 
liquors of the like nature are more inflammatory than spirits which are 
matured by age. Immoderate wine drinkers may live perhaps longer 
than the immoderate drinkers of liquors highly alcoholic^ But their 
estate is sooner wasted* Wretchedness ami poverty of course sooner 
come upon their families. The ^cample which they set, moreover, 
may in appearance have less of what is odious and horrible in it; but 
for that very reason it is likely to do the more mischief to others. 

Intoxication, and all approach toward it, in all its stages, from what- 
ever liquor it proceeds, is deleterious to body, mind, and outward estate. 
There may be some differences and some gradations in the mischief 
done by inebriating liquors ; hv^ in a mere question of duty and con- 
scitnee they can scarcely be worth regarding. In cases of a moral 
nature, of religious duty, the question is not simply, in most cases hot 
at all, whether a thing is mnore or le$9 evil, but whether it is evU^ and 
therefore to be avoided. 

Nothing can be more certain, than that intoxication, in ail its gra* 
dations from the lowest to the highest, ts evil moral and^iatural. Can 
it be lawful then for me to incur Uiis evil by the use of any liquor what- 
ever, so as in any degree to intoxicate myself? Plainly it cannot. 

Now if wine be an intoxicating liquor, (as all must know, who know 
any thing of its nature, or who are aware that most of our fai^ionable 
and common wines are neaiiy one half as strong as -brandy,) then why 
is it not as wrong for me to use wine so as to produce any degree of 
intoxication, as it is to produce the same e^^et by any other liquor? 
Is it possible to make any difference here as to the prineiplt which is 
concerned, that will amount to any thing worthy of serious nolice in a 
moral point of view 1 

The true and fundamental principle then, of all Churches, and of aU 
the real friends of temperance, would seem to be, that ikeJirBquenl or 
habitwd U8e of aU liquors which can product intoxieation ii to be 
avoided. All that comes short of this fails of reaching the essential 
point to be aimed at. Surely it will be conceded that the grand object 
of all tempersince measures must he to put a stop to intemperance, 
and not merely to discuss the niceties of difference between one intox* 
icating liquor and another. Can any thing effectually do ^s, but to 
refrain from the frequent, the habitual, ot excessive use of all liquors, 
whatever may be their specific name or nature, which contain sufficient 
alcohol to produce intoxication, when drank in any quantity &at 
we can well suppose men capable of drinking? If this be not a 
principle plain, simple, and fundamentally essential to the ultimate 
objects of all temperance societies which are thorough, I confesa 
myself unable to see what radical and effectual principle can ever be 
established. 

On any other grounds do we not contend with namesj rather than with 
things ? On any other ground what do we, except proscribe certain 
liquors because diey have an odiotts name ; while we admit &e use of 



416 Pr&ft$9or SkmrP$ &My. 

« 
otherd wVtck produce tlie like or the aune effects, beoBuue they are 
called by a aame that has not yet hecome reproaclaiiil 1 

It vill doubtless be said in answer to tUa, that the use of wine is 
proved by experience in wine countries not to be attmided with the 
same hazard as the use of ardent spirits. It has often been asserted 
that persons do not aa reaidily become inftemperate by the use of wine 
as of ardent 'spirit, and that in case they do, its effects are much 
slower than those of distilled spirits, as to the Obstruction of heal& 
and life. 

The first of these assertions, however, is matter of controversy.— 
Witnesses who have visited wine countries have of late been found to 
differ in their testimony relative to this subject. All the wine coun- 
tries in Europe carry on the manufaetoiy of brandy as well as wine ; 
so that the opportunity for becoming intemperate by the use of ardent 
spirit cannot there be wanting. Tbtt there are fewer drunkards, bow- 
ever, in France, Spain, and Italy, than in England and America, seems 
to be more generally conceded. , But whether this is owing to the state 
of opinion and habit there, in regard to intemperam/e, or whether it is 
to be put to the score of wine being less iidapted to create a thirst for 
inebriating liquors than distilled drinks, would seem, from the present 
state of evidence, to be a more doubtful question than has hitherto been 
generally supposed. 

Dr. Hewif, the former agent of the American Tempertmce Society, 
to whom the cause which they advocate is so greatly indebted, visited 
France a s^ort time since,' on purpose to ascertain the real facts in* 
respect to their habits of temperance. I beg leave to quote his own 
words, as descriptive of the result to which his inquiries led. * We 
have heard it affirmed,* says he, * that France is a wine-drinking, bat 
still a temperate country. The latter is entirely false. The common 
people there are burned up with .wine, and look exactly like the cider- 
brandy drinkers of Connecticut, and the New-England-riim drinkers 
of Massachusetts. If they do not drink to absolute stupefactiott or 
intoxication, it is because sensuality with Frenchmen is a science and 
a system. They are toe cunning to cut lAort their pleasures by 
beastly drunkenness ; and therefore they drink to just that pitch at 
which their judgment and their moral sense are laid asleep, but all their 
other senses kept wide awake. This is the only satis&etory explana- 
tion of the strange inconsistencies of the French character. And diis 
explains hqw, with all their characteristic vohibiiity, they are ready for 
any crime which can be committed. Their minds are kept at the point 
of excitement, where they are ready for any thing of this kind, while, 
at the same time, they know their own interest too well to drink to ab* 
solute stupefaction. Hence the horrors of the first revolution.' (Cited 
in the tract called the Clinton Family, p. 151.) 
' Other testimony fi-om highly intelligent and observing men it woidd 
be easy to produce, did the limits of this Essay permit ; oth^ testi«» 
m<my, I mean, wtuch serves stron^y to corroborate this statement— 
But I readily adinit that differ^it views have often been laid before &e 
public. On the whole, therefore, the judgment of a serious inquirer 
after the truth, in relation to the actual state of intemperance in the 
wineT countries, must be in /nispeaee, until we have some Ibrther hgfat 
Tariety cf testiniony may easily be acooonted fi>r, witfaoot any in^u* 



Pr0f4i9or Siw$rVs JBtMq. 417 

tation of partiality* or oTen of eeroneoua judgawQt. WitDdases who 
visited different places in the wine countrieSf Imve seen different habits 
prevailing^ among the people in regard to the matter of intemperance, 
and have therefore given U9 different accounts* which seem* at first 
view, to contradict each other* but which in reality do not 

At all events tiie advocates for using wine as a common drink have 
no right, in the present state of the question respecting wine countries, 
to assume the fact that the people in them are unusually temperate, 
and to build upon such an assumption. M<H'e satisfactory testimony in 
their favor is needed, before this can safely and fairly be done. 

But there are other questions of great interest, in respect to wioes, 
some of which it is indispensable tlmt we should here notice. 

Medical men* so far as I know* seem to be satisfied that drunken- 
ness by wine is less deleterious, in some respects* than drunkenness 
by ardent spirit. It is* as it would seem, the more general opinion 
anu>ng them, that the alcohol in wine is so modified by the other sub- 
stances with which it is associated, as to be less inflammatory than 
that which is contained in distilled spirits. Hence the conclusion 
made by not a few ve^y sensible and well-informed men among them, 
that there is much less need of opposition to the drinking of wine, than 
to that of ardent spirit. 

That there is some foundation for such an opinion, one can scarcely 
doubt. That it has been carried much farther^ however* than facts 
will warrant us to carry it, is what I verily believe^ and shall now en- 
deavor to show. 

One reason why mere ardent spirit mixed with water produces a strong 
sensation and great excitement in the stomach* is, the in^erfect mixture 
ivhich it undergoes, for the most part, before it is drunk. But let the mix-' 
ture be completely made, and the difference between water with ardent 
spirit and wine of the same strength* is scarcely if at all perceptible. 

As this is a fact of great importance in the present inquiry, and as it 
has of^en and even generally been otherwise represented, I must pro- 
duce my voucher for such an assertion. 

Mr. Brande* of England, one of the most celebrated practical 
chemists of the present day* has analyzed spirituous liquors and wines 
to a greater extent* as I apprehend, than any other man now living.— 
From him comes the analysis to the number of fifty-eight different 
liquors, which is fully exhibited on the first leaf of the seventh Report 
of the American Temperance Society. Early in his labors of this 
nature, so long ago as the year 1812, this distinguished chemist read 
an Essay before the Royal Society in London^ an extract from which 
I now beg leave to make, as having a very important and (as it seems 
to my mind) decisive bearing upon the point before us. 

*' It has been frequently asserted,' says he* ' that a mixture of alco- 
hol and water, in the proportions I have stated them to exist in wine, 
virould be much more effectual in producing intoxication, and in the 
general bad effects of spirituous liquors, than a similar quantity in wine 
itself. But this i$ true lo a very limited extent only* When brandy is 
added to water, it is some time before the two liquids perfectly com- 
bine f and with alcohol this is more remarkably the case ; and th^n the 
mixtures are warmer to the t^ste, and more heating, if taken in a state 
of imperfect union, than where sufficient time has been allowed for 



41S - Ftrfe$$ar Shtmrti E$9aifi. - 

tlMtr perfeet mutual penetratioii. I haye also aaeertained that dMtileci 
Port wine tastes stronger and is more heating than in its original state ; 
and that those qualities are unimpatrecl« and Sie wine reduced nearly to 
its original flavor by the addition of its acid and extractiye matter.'* 

* With Claret and some other wines* containing less alcohol and being 
more acid than Port* these circumstances are more readily perceiyed. 
Lastly, ij the re$iduium afferdtd 6y iht dutUUUion of one hundrtd paris 
of Port vfine be added to twenly'tfBo parts of aUohol and ieventy*eighi 
ofwater,in a state of perfect conMnation^ the hixtdrk is prbcisslt 

ANALOGOUS, IN ITS INTOXICATING BFFECT, TO PoRT WINE OP AN 
SaOAL STRENGTH.' 

Allowing the correctneiis of this statement, which, so far as I know, 
has not been controyerted, it follows, that alcohol and water of equal 
strength with wine, mixed with the residuum of wine obtained by dis- 
tilling away all its fluid parts, produces the yery same intoxicating 
effect as the wine itself of equal strength would, before its distillation. 
It may still be true, and probably is, that the- residuum in question pro- 
duces some modifying effect upon the alcc^l and water mixed witii it. 
Any nutritious substance, milk, bread, fruit, any thing which employs 
the digestiye organs, seems in a greater or less degree to modify the 
action of alcohol. Eyery one who has had experience, knows that 
alcoholic drink taken upon an empty stomach will produce much more 
excitement and didtarlmnce of the system, than when taken with a 
meal, or eyen with a small quantity of fo6d. So far as the nutritiouB 
substance of the grape is incorporated with wine, so for it may serye, 
and doubtless does serye, to modify the alcohol whidi the wine always 
contains, when it has been fermepted. 

But with all the aUowances wjiich are to be made on the ground just 
stated, can there be any important moral difference between the action 
of the alcohol in wine upon the human system, and pure alcohol mixed 
with a quantity of water sufficient to reduce it to the same strength? — 
Mr. Brande says respecting this yery point of difierence, that it is true 
in a yERT limited ektent only. The experience of careful obsenrers 
will decide, as I must think, in the same way. The writer of this in 
early life was accdstomed, by direction of physicians, to drink alter- 
nately a small quantity of wine or brandy eyery day, on account of the 
feeble state of his health. He neyer perceiyed any sensible difierence 
in the action of the alcohol in the two liquors, when taken in the same 
quantity as to their respectiye strength. The difference generally be- 
Ueyed in seems to arise principally if not entirely from the fact, that 
wine is more usually drank vfitk or after mealsy especially full ones. — 
The entire effect of that which is drunk late in the eyening is in gene- 
mi not well obseryed, inasmuch as sleep soon succeeds the drinking 
of it 

We may allow, then, that physicians haye some foundatioa for the 
opinion, that the action of alc^ol in wine is modified by its mixture 

* Mr. B. eridently metiw by < dittiUed Pert wine,' tiie liqaor that ii obtained 
from it by distillation until all the flaid part ia drawn off. Tbe qualities that are 
• impaired,* by mixing this liquor again with the residuum which is found after 
distillation, are * warmth to the tiiste and a heating quality.* In other words, 
the wine in its crigimal state is less heating than the liquid distilled from it, u 
this be drank by itself. 



Profeaor StuarPa. Ettoy. 419 

vith Bttbstaiicefl that come from the grape^ which are of a natrittous 
and digestible nature, for in the like manner the action of pure alcohol 
and water may at any time be modified by any species of nutriment-— 
But now, for the subUance of the matter — ^is there any important differ- 
ence between alcohol itself in wtne, and the same alcohol in water ? 
Mr. Brande, an excellent authority on such a question, says there is 
not ; experience, the experience of nice practical observers, as I verily 
believe, will agree with his decision. 

Supposing now this ground to be correct, the moral question as to 
the frequent or habitual use of wine, remains the same for substance as 
the question respecting the use of brandy and water, or alcohol diluted 
in any way, so as to be of the same strength with wine. And if it be 
said, as I have already intimated it is, that the effects of drinking wine 
are less rapid and fatal to health and life, than those of drinking ardent 
spirit ; we may allow that there is tome foundation for this , remark, 
(for doubtless there may be,) and yet is there difference enough be- 
tween the two things to Make the one lawful and the other unlawful ? 
Stimulating the system habitually in any way with alcohol, whether 
in wine or any other drink, cannot possibly, if we credit the best [^y- 
sicians, be otherwise than injurious to the health of body and mind. 
It is therefore an offence against the laws of our nature ; and conse- 
quently against the will of that God who ordained them. One may 
truly say, by way of illustration, that to put a man unjustly to death by 
burning him alive, is an aggra/oated murder ; but to drown him with- 
out any just cause, although this is putting him to a lenient death, is 
still a murder. Halntual drinking of wine, then, may be less delete- 
rious, and in some respects less criminal than the habitual drinking of 
ardent spirit ; but does it therefore follow that stimulating with wine in 
such a manner is not really evil in the sight of God ? 

Let us look at this subject, however, in a little different point of view. 
For the sake of argument, we will concede that alcohol in wine is con- 
siderably modified and soflened, in conseqi|ence of its combination 
with various matters that are extracted from the grape and combined 
' vriih it Tet, afler all, the advocatsis for moderate wine drinking can- 
not help admitting that tliere is active alcohol enough remaining in all 
iHrines of which we have any knowledge, to produce intoxication.—^ 
Facts place this beyond all possibility of doubt The modification, 
then, can be ojoAypartiaL Men may and do become drunk'with wine. 
As to that part of alcoholic action, then, which still remains after all 
the modification that we can with any degree of probability admit, what 
are the advocates of temperance to say I The most that can be truly 
alleged is, that a native wine of fifteen per cent, alcohol, as we may 
say for the sake of example, becomes, by being mixed wiUi substances 
derived from the grape, aiial(^ous in its effects, in all important respects 
either physical or moral, to alcohol and water, or brandy and water, of 
strengUi a little inferior to the apparent strength of the wine. I see 
not how we can, in consistency with plain and certain frets, possibly 
make any thing more or less than this out of the whole matter. The 
alcohol in wine is still sufficiently.strong to make men 4nink, place the 
modification of its action at just as high a pitch as you pkase. Facts 
then can never be set aside, afler aU $ and while it is a fact, that men 
intoxicate themselves continually upon wine, and di^ the same tbiog 



420 Profeiior Siuarfs Essay. 

with ardent spirit, all that remains to he said, is, that drunkenness on 
wine is less pernicious than that upon ardent spirit. But this, again, 
is what has never yet been satiifaciorily shown ; and I may add, what 
is not likely to be established. ' Where men are dyspeptics, (and most 
hard drinkers become so of course,) the acid that is in wine occasions 
far more grievous and distressing consequences to the health of the 
wine-bibber, than the intemperate drinking of brandy occasions. IVe 
may appeal to the severe head-aches that nearly always follow intoxi- 
cation by wine, which are far less frequent among those who are ad- 
dicted to brandy or rum. 

Advocates, then, for the moderate drinking of wine, are bound to 
show us some way in which we can escape from the conclusion that 
wine drinkers are alcohol drinkers. Admit all the modification they 
plead for, and when all is done, there is sufficient alcohol left which is 
active and intoxicating, to render wine objectionable. Can a tempe- 
rate man consistently indulge himself habitually in the drinking of such 
alcohol? This is a fair statement of the^case, even on £eir own 
grounds ; and yet the necessary conclusion from it is such as is enough 
to make the frequent or habitual drinking of wine revolting to every 
thorough-going advocate of temperance. 

But there is still another view of this subject which must now be 
taken, before we can be prepared to advance to the ultimate object of 
our present inquiry. I have all along spoken of wines, without any 
reference to the €tctual state or condition of them as used in our country. 

It is a fact well known at present, and too generally conceded to 
need any proof here, that all the wines of our country, (excepting 
merely a few casks brought from abroad by the special order of a small 
number of individuals,) are mixed with brandy or other ardent spirit. 
No doubt seems now to remain, that by far the greater quantity of 
what is. sold and drunk as wine in the United States, is manufactured 
in the midst of us, in a great variety of ways, and often by the incor- 
poration of deleterious substances. It is a well known practice, more- 
over, of all the manufacturers of wine abroad, where it is made from 
the grape, to add brandy to it, in order to prepare it for exportation. — 
This is thought to be the only way in which it can be kept from be- 
coming acid ; and indeed it is the only successful way which seems 
yet to have been discovered. Hence no pure wine can ever be ob- 
tained in this country, by importation from abroad, except by special 
order and great pains taking to prevent its being brandied. The higher 
wines have usually from eight to ten per cent of alcohol added, i. e. 
one gallon of brandy at least for every five of wine ; and the lower 
ones a like proportion, in respect to their original strength. No native 
wine has yet been analyzed which yields more than from fourteen to 
sixteen per cent of alcohol. Few, if any, fiedl below ten per cent of 
alcohol in their native state, i. e. even the lower wines are in general 
about one fifth as strong as brandy. 

What then w the actual condition in which these wines, jrielding in 
their native state fixim ten to sixteen per cent of alcohol, come to be 
used by us 1 Almost without exception the wines in more fashionable 
use contain from eighteen to twenty-five per cent of alcohol, i. e. they 
are from ene third to one haif as strong as brandy in its usual state 
and before dilutioiii 



Professor Stuarfa Essay. 421 

Such is the information communicated to the world by the result of 
Mr. Brande's experiments. I take great pleasure in adding, that the 
experiments of a skilful and excellent chemist of our own country. 
Prof. L. C. Beck of jthe city of Albany and state of New- York, accord 
in all important respects with the results in general of Mr. Brande. — 
By an. analysis of nearly all thd wines imported to this country, and of 
our own indigenous alcoholic drinks. Dr. Beck has, during the past 
year, laid the Christian public and all the friends of temperance under 
great obligations to him. The result of the whole of his protracted and 
very numerous experiments, is detailed and spread before the public in 
the American Temperance Intelligencer, extra, of May, 1834, printed 
at Albany by the noble temperance-corps there, who merit the thanks 
and blessings of all the friends of virtue and humanity throughout the 
world. The small variations from Mr. Brande's results, which appear 
in some of the results of Prof. Beck, are easily accounted for by the 
difierence there is in the mode of manufacturing wines, every vintner 
putting in brandy according to his own judgment and taste, as is well 
known to be the fact. Beside this, different soils give to the same 
grape greater or less strength. 

Of twenty-one wines (but not all of different sorts) analyzed by our 
countryman, none contained less than eighteen per cent, of alcohol, 
i. e. they were about two'fijlhs as strong as brandy, at the least, while 
niost of them were nearly half as strong. The average strength of 
ttp enty oHhese wines was found to be about twenty-two per cent of alco- 
hol. Only Sauterne, Claret, and native American wine, were found to 
be comparatively weak ; the first of these containing thirteen per cent. 
of alcohol, the second a little more than eleven, and the third nearly 
twelve, i. e. these lowest wines were at least one-fourth as strong as 
brandy. Of nearly the same strength is metheglin (10.57 per cent. ;) 
strong beer, 10.67 ; cider, nearly 5. 

One very important result has come from the experiments of Mr. 

Brande and Prof. Beck. This is, that the production of alcohol is now 

fully ascertained, to be by fermentation, and not 6t^ distillation. 

The reasons of such a conclusion are briefly stated by Dr. Beck, and 

are for substance as follows ; — . 

1. Alcohol is obtained from wines by distillation, at the temperature 
of sixty degrees of Fahrenheit ; which of course precludes the idea, 
that alcohol is- formed by the action of heat upon the elements existing 
in the fermented liquor. 

2. Alcohol is lighter than wine. If it is formed by the process of 
distillation, and does not actually exist in th# wine before, it is distilled, 
then if it be added again to the residuum of wine after being formed 
by distillation, the same quantity by measure of wine would be lighter 
than before* But this is not the fact. The wine is of just the same 
specific gravity as before distillation. Of course the alc<^ol itself is 
just the same fluid before distillation as after it Consequently it is not 
formed by distillation, but by fermentation. 

3. Precipitate the coloring and extractive matters of wine by the 
subacetate of lead, and the pure alcohol may be separated from it 
without the process of distillation, viz. by the addition of dry subcar- 
bonate of potash ; in the same way that it can be obtained from whiskey* 
gin, brandy, &c. 

Vol. YL— October, 1836. 36 



42S Prof9990T Shmrfi Enrng. 

These ezpenments 8ettle« then, die very important qnestion, Haw 
i$ alcohol generated ? No doubt now remains that it comes from sac- 
charine matter contained in fruits, vegetables, &c., and diat it is always 
and exclusively the product of fermentation. Before fermentation, any 
quantt^ of wine, cider, &c, that can possibly be drunk, will produce 
no degree of intoxication, because alcohol is not yet formed. And so 
in respect to different grains and vegetables ; any quantity, of wheat, 
Tye, barley, potatoes, &c, eaten as food, will produce not the slightest 
degree of intoxication. But let these substances undergo a process of 
fermentation, and then the alcohol is generated, and becomes a dis* 
tinct and separate substance, which is capable of being disengaged from 
all its concomitant substances by distillation, or by another process as 
above related. 

Alcohol, then, — and be the fact remembered by all the friends of 
temperance throughout the world — alcohol is the $ame eubetance in 
wine BEFORE dietiltation ae after it. It produces, therefore, as we 
might naturally expect, in all important respects pertaining to health 
or morals, the same consequences, if drunk oflen or to any degree of 
excess. It is not disiillaiion which makes ardent spirits in any case ; 
it is fermentation. The process of distillation gives to alcohol a sepa- 
rate form of existence, by educing it from its concomitant substances. 

The reader will observe that I have expressed my views on this 
subject in a guarded manner. I do not aver that a given quantity of 
alcohol in wine will produce the same effect in all respects, as it will 
when drunk in a pure state. I concede the fact, that some modification 
is occasioned by the mixture of nutritive matter extracted from the 
grape. But wine, after all, does intoxicate to any and every degree ; 
and therefore the alcohol in it, as far as it is not modified, produces the 
same deleterious effect as the alcohol in brandy or other ardent spirits. 
All that the modification by nutritive matter effects, is to render it ne- 
cessary to drink a little more in order to produce an intoxicating effect, 
than nould be requisite if the action of the alcohol were not in some 
degree modified. But how this can change the nature of the intoxi- 
cating effect in any important respect, as it regards either morals or 
health, I am quite unable to perceive. Getting drunk is neither more 
nor less than getting drunk ; and becoming partially intoxicated is nei- 
ther more nor less Sian becoming partially intoxicated ; whether it be 
on wine or ardent spirit. It is the same substance, the same cause, 
viz. alcohol, which in both cases produces the same effect. 

In view of such facts, what must, we think then of the great, the long 
continued, the much insisted on distinction between alcohol in distilled 
spirits, and alcohol as it exists in wine ? The substance of alcohol, 
as experiment shows with certainty, is the very same in wine that it is in 
brandy, gin, whiskey, or any of the fiery liquors. All that can be fairly 
said, is, that nutritious substances of the grape, as before observed, 
help in some small degree to moderate or mollify the action of the 
alcohol ; but, as Mr. Brands has truly remained, to a vert LntiTEO 
EXTEMT OKLT. Temperance societies and Churches have done well, 
no doubt, to wage war against the common use of disttHed spirits.— 
They are an enemy witfi which, in tins fespect, no truce and no treaty 
should be made. A war of extermination is ike only Christian warfinre 
against such a use. But this war against distilled spirits has been 



Profenor Siuar^»EMay. 423 

faidierto carried on, for the most part, in a kind of exclusive way ; and 
in this way only because, as I apprehend, the necessary light was not 
yet shed ' on this part of the subject But now it seems to stand At 
last in open day, that distilled alcohol differs in no respect from alcohol 
in fermented liquors,^ except that being in a good degree separated 
from other and extraneous substances when it is distilled, it is much 
stronger than in a diluted state. After all, however, it ia fermentation 
which creates the alcohol itself. Fermented liquors, then, conceal this 
great enemy of human health and peace ; nor is he less^deadly be- 
cause he lies concealed in them. Distilled liquors taken with water 
and sugar, with milk, or with any modifying substance, can in no im- 
portant respect be now shown to be more deleterious than fermented 
liquors which contain the same or at most but little more than the 
same quantity of alcohol. 

It is time then for all our Churches, and all the friends of tempe- 
rance, to look for the future at things^ and not to be influenced in their 
measures by names. The public now know, or may know, on the 
subject of alcohol, what a short time ago they did not fully and satis- 
factorily know ; and what a few years since they did not know at all. 
Our measures, therefore, ought to keep pace with our light. Fer^ 
mented alcoholic liquors should henceforth become the proper subjects 
of avoidance and prohibition, and not merely distilled ones. The 
enemy should be opposed and routed, whether in the open field or in 
ambush. 

But here we shall of course be met with the allegation that has been 
often repeated : * The Bible — ^the Holy Scriptures— allow, yea enjoin 
the use pf wine* In a multitude of places they speak of it as in use 
among pious and excellent men of ancient days ; and the Giver of 
every good and perfect gift Himself required that it should be made a 
part of every daily oblation in the temple ; and the Lord of glory Him- 
self has made it one of the elements of that holy supper, by which 
His sufferings and death are commemorated among all His faithful 
disciples.* 

The truth of tibe facts now stated I do most fully and readily acknow- 
ledge. Whoever will open his Bible at Exod. xxix, 40, and Num. 

* This fact is readercMi oertain from the process upon wine and brandy in order 
to separate the alcohol from each. The process is or may be the very same ; and 
the results in all respects the same, i. e. pute alcohol is obtained in the same man- 
ner. Now if there were any chemical combination of the substance of alcoho! 
in wine, with other substances in it, and a modification were effeeted in this waj, 
(as many seem to suppose,) then it would require, some different agent to disen. 
gage the alcohol in wine firem what is required to disengage it in brandy, which 
contains only diatiUed alcohol. But as one and the same agency or the same 
means disengages the alcohol in both cases, so there can be no mere combination 
of a chemical nature in one case than in the other; and consequently all the rea- 
oening about alcohol in vine, which is built upon assuming the fact that it is 
alcohol modified by chemical combination, and so as to become as it were another 
substance, falls to the ground, inasmuch as it has no facts to suj^ort it, but is 
directly contradicted by well known and certain facts. Alcohol is a atmty 
wherever it exists, i. e. it is one and the same substance. It may be inixed with 
jnanv kinds of ingredients, and the action of tl modified by them ; but it is in 
itself always one and the same substance. And as this is now rendered chemi- 
eally certain, it is in vain to build any longer upon the old assumption, that it is 
a substance in wine of la dififerent nature from what it is ia brandy and other 
ardent spirit. 



424 Profe$9or StuarVs Essay. 

xxyiii, 7, will see that wine or strong drink was part of the daily offer- 
ing to God, which was to be made by the priests. By consulting 
Mark xiv, 35, moreover, he will perceive that the cup which Jesus 
cave to His disciples, when He instituted the sacrament, contained the 
fruit of the vine^ i. e. wine« That wine was drunk on sacramental 
occasions by the disciples of Christ at a subsequent period is quite 
clear also from 1 Cor. xi, 21, where the apostle sharply reproves some 
of the Corinthian Christians, because they intoxicated themselves at 
the holy supper. 

On one other occasion, moreover, the Hebrews were permitted to 
use wine and strong drink. In Deut. xiv, 22-26, they are command- 
ed to tithe all their increase or productions, and to eat of this tithe 
before the Lord, in the place where He shall appoint. But if the 
place where they live, is so distant that they cannot conveniently carry 
up the tithe itself with them, when they go to present themselves be- 
fore the Lord, they are directed to sell it, to carry the money with them, 
and to purchase ^ oxen or sheep, or wine, or strong drink, or whatso- 
ever their soul desireth,' and to eat and rejoice before the Lord. 

The nature of this permission amounts to the same thing as a per- 
mission in our country, in those states where public thanksgiving is 
kept, 'to drink wine and such strong drink as the Hebrews used upon 
that day. 

There are two cases more which merit our attention. Jesus at the 
wedding feast in Cana of Galilee (John ii, 2-11) turned water into 
wine, for the accommodation of the guests who were present ; and 
Paul directs Timothy to drink a little wine, on account of his frequent 
infirmities, 1 Tim. v, 23. 

These are, I apprehend, all the decided cases of approbation or 
sanction to the drinking of wine, which the Bible exhibits. The case 
in which Wisdom invites her guests to a feast, (Prov. ix, 2-5,) and the 
injunction to give wine or strong drink to him who is ready to perish or 
is of a heavy heart, (Prov. xxxi, 6 ;) the case in which it is said that 
the Lord will make for His people a feaist of fat things, and of wines 
on the lees well refined, (Isa. xxv. 6,) all range themselves under the 
same principles as- the ones already specified. On special occasions 
of feasting, such as weddings, thanksgivings, and the like, there can be 
no doubt that the Jews were accustomed to drink wine, nor any doubt 
that they were permitted to do so ; for the Scriptures do not speak of 
the temperate use of wine, on such occasions, with disapprobation. — 
But let it be noted, that they no where command it, except in cases 
where the restoration of lost health is concerned. Wine or strong 
drink (such as the Hebrews used) must be given to those who are of 
a heavy heart or ready to perish, i. e. to those who are sunk down and 
dispirited by disease ; and Timothy is required by the apostle to take 
wine on account of his frequent infirmitiea; while the use of it at 
feasts is mentioned merely as a circumstance which was usually con- 
nected with them, and a thing which was not forbidden. On this 
ground, we find that Jesus was accused by the Pharisees of being a 
glutton and a wine-bibber, because He accepted of invitations to attend 
such meals or feasts as were prepared in special honor of Him. It 
would seem to be a natural conclusion, that wine was exhibited at those 
feasts ; although there is no proof whatever that the Savior imbitaally 



Proft$ior 8iuarf$ JB^toy. 435 . 

drank it when He attended them. The accusation that Jesus was a 
unne-'hibher^ in all probability, (may I not say, with certainty ?) had as 
little foundation as that He was a glutton. Both were made by the 
malignant Pharisees. 

I must not quit the particular part of our subject which is now under 
consideration, without remarking that the very fact of wine being spe- ' 
cifically mentioned in connection with /eo^fo among the Hebrews seems 
to show very plainly that it was not a common or habitual, but a spe- 
cial drink am<»ig them. What writer in the English world, in describ- 
ing a feast, would now think of mentioning that brectd and water were 
exhibited at the table ? These are elements so common, or rather so 
universal, that the mention of them would be altogether superfluous. 
And so in the case of the Hebrews ; if wine had usually and habitu- 
ally been placed on their tables, and was considered and treated by 
them as a common and necessary drink, how shall we account for the 
specification of it when their feasts are described ? Plainly it stands 
on the same grounds as the meats that are particularly mentioned, 
which are never common ones, but ihefaited calf ^ fat things^ »taU-fed 
beaali, and the like. The very aspect of the Bible, then, in regard to 
the matter of drinking wine, shows that it was not a common but only 
a special drink, reserved for particular festive occasions, or else for the 
infirm and diseased. It can never be made out that Jesus, or His 
apostlest^or any pious Christians of the primitive age, drank wine ha- ' 
bitually. The most which it is possible to show from the Scriptures, 
is, that on special and extraordinary occasions they sometimes drank 
such wine as the grapes of Palestine afforded ; a liquor but little more 
than half as strong as the wines in common use among us. Even 
this, we shall see in the sequel, was in all probability much diluted. 

No where, then, is the use of wine commanded^ unless in some cases 
of broken health ; and even then we cannot consider it as a duty to 
drink it, provided we now have (as I doubt not we in fact have) better 
means of renovating our strength. Nothing can be more certain than 
that the use of wine for a great part of the dyspeptics at the present 
day would be exceedingly injurious, on the ground of the acid which 
it contains. That Paul judged rightly of Timothy's case, we need 
not be disposed to doubt. That lus judgment in this case can be 
drawn in as a precedent for all cases of disease, or even of itomachic 
disease, it would be an egregious error and even folly to assert. The 
fact, moreover, that Paul felt himself obliged to give an absolute man- 
date to Timothy, in order to induce him to drink wine, shows that the 
latter hdd been accustomed rigidly to abstain from it. 

Such then is the Scriptural view of wine, in respect to permitting, or 
not forbidding the use of it. Let us now look at the other side of this 
question, and see what cautions and prohibitions and threatenings the 
sacred writers have given and uttered, in order to prevent every grada- 
tion of abuse in respect to such a permission. In order to do this, I 
must request the reader to stop here, and deliberately to examine the 
texts to which I shall now refer him, and which (for the sake of brevity) 
I do not here transcribe at length, viz. Rom. xiii, 13 ; Prov. xxiii, 20, 
21, 29^5 ; Eph. v, 18 ; Luke xxi, 34 ; 1 Thess. v, 6, 7; 1 Pet. iv, 
3 ; Prov. xx, 1 ; Isa. xxviii, 7 ; Hos. iv, 11 ; Hab. ii, 5 ; Isa. xxviit, 
1 ; V, 11-14, 22 ; Amos vi, 1-6 ; 1 Cor. v, 11 ; Deut. xxi, 18-21 ; 

36* 



436 Profeuor SiuarPs Esiay. 

1 Cor. vi, 9, 10 ; Gal. v, 19-^21. These textscontitm the mott awfUl 
inraniiDgg against intempeiance ; and they also exhibit wine as the prin- 
cipal instrument in occasioning intoxication. Especially was muctd 
wine, i. e. wine medicated by some fiery and stimulant substances, 
employed by intemperate persons for the purpose of becoming ine- 
briated. 

The amount of the whole Scriptural representation, then, seems to 
be« that while the use of wine or strong drink was enjoined in oblations 
to God, and while on the day of Jewish thanksgiving the Hebrews 
were permitted to drink it — while the Savior employed it in the insti- 
tution of the sacramental supper, and sanctioned the use of it at a 
wedding feast, and possibly at other feasts, and Timothy was enjoined 
to use it for a medicinal purpose, yet, for the most part, the Bible is 
filled with warnings against it, and all excessive use of it is plainly 
prohibited under the highest penalty. 

The lawfulness of occasionally using such wine or strong drink as 
tibey had in Palestine, is then established, as we must concede, on a 
basis which cannot be shaken so long as the authority of Scripture and 
the example of Jesus remain. Among intelligent and enlightened 
Christians there never can be any controversy on this part of the sub- 
ject, so far as the simple fact is concerned. It is only the modifications 
and limitations which we are now called to examine. 

But the settling of the principle already exhibited does not settle all 
the questions which may be asked, and which should be answered in a 
satisfactory way, if indeed they can be. These will bring us at last to 
the very point stated at the commencement of this Essay ai^ the object 
of our inquiries ; whither, indeed, all that has been said is designed at 
last to bring us. 

The Hebrews, as it appears from the passage in Deut. xiv, 22-26, 
were permitted not only to use wine but strong drink also, on the day 
of their public thanksgiving at the close of their harvest seasons. We 
must stop a moment here, to inquire what was the nature of this strong 
drink^ which the Scriptures so oflen mention in connection with wine, 
and which, as appears from Num. xxviii, 7, might be used as an obla- 
tion or drink-ofiering in the ritual of the tabernacle or. temple service. 

Jerome, who in the latter part of the fourth century spent twenty 
years in Palestine in order to prepare himself for translating the He- 
brew Scriptures, has lefl on record a very explicit statement in respect 
to. the Hel^rew shekhar *oi7, which is almost every where translated 
strong drink. He says, in his epistle to Nepotianus, * In Hebrew, 
every drink which can intoxicate, is called shekhar ; whether it is made 
of grain, or with the juice of apples, or with honey boiled down into a 
sweet and singular drink, or the fruit of the palm-tree (dates) is pressed 
into a liquor, and the water that is enriched by it is colored with stewed 
fruits.' Herodotus, one of the earliest Greek writers, (fl. 484 A. C.) 
iestifies of the Egyptians, that * they used a wine (oivci)) made of 6ar<- 
ley;^ Hist, ii, 67. Diodorus Sicufus, who flourished a little before 
the Christian era, also testifies concerning the Egyptians, that ' if any 
region would not produce the vine, they were instructed to prepare a 
drink from barley, which was not much inferior to wine in fragrance 
and strength ;' Lib. i, De Osiride. That the orientals in general 
were accustomed to make an intoxicating drink from dates, is well 



Proftaar Siiuirf « Etray. 427 

known, and indeed is qaite oertam, from the foct that the Arabic word 
$akar Sm* the same as the Hebrew word already quoted above, sig- 
nifies date wine or strong drink. 

From these express and altogether intelligible testimonies, it is plain 
that the word rendered strong drink throughout the Scriptures does 
not signify a liquor more intoxicating than wine, but less so in general. 
None of the substances with which it was made, afford so much alco- 
holic matter in their juices as the grape ; and with the process of dis- 
tillation the Hebrews evidently were not acquainted. Hence, when 
drunkards were desirous of highly stimulating liquors, they put in them 
peppers and various aromatics, or myrrh, in order to increase their 
stimulating power. Had they been acquainted with distillation, this 
would have been unnecessary. Moreover, Diodorus expressly says, 
as above, that the liquor (otvog) which the Egyptians obtained from 
barley, was inferior in strength to the wine, as doubtless it must be ; 
and the same is true in respect to the shekhar or strong drink made 
from all the substances which Jerome mentions. 

Wine itself and all intoxicating drinks may be included, and perhaps 
sometimes were included under the general name shekhar^ 'yyffy but in 
i^early every instance in the Hebrew Scriptures wine is mentioned 
separately from strong drink. The original and simple meaning of 
mne and strong drinks as used by the sacred writers, is loine and all 
other liquors that have an intoxicating quality. But wine was evi- 
dently the strongest, and therefore it is mentioned first. 

We can now see why the Hebrews were permitted, on their thanks- 
giving day, to use strong drink as well as wine ; and why they were 
permitted to present this, as well as wine, in the drink-offerings made 
to the Lord, Num. xxviii, 7, Our translators needed not (as they 
have done) to render shekhar strong wine in this passage ; and proba- 
bly they would not have so done, had they understood the true nature 
of the liquors which it designates. 

No intoxicating drink, then, existed among the Jews, which was as 
strong as wine ; wine itself among them was never brandied, for the 
art of distillation was unknown ; and the only substitute for ardent 
spirit was stimulating wines made by the infusion of aromatic and other 
substances of a stimulant nature. The danger then of intoxication 
was evidently much less among the Hebrews than among us ; and 
much less than it now is in wine countries, where the distillation of 
brandy is constantly carried on. 

From these important facts we may gather a reason why less caution 
was used in regard to permission to drink wine, than roost temperate 
men now feel it expedient to use, in regard to drinking our wines, or 
our ardent spirits. But the utmost extent to which we can gather any 
express permission from the Scriptures to drink even native wine is, 
as we have seen, that it may be drunk on a day of feasting or thanks- 
giving, at a wedding, for infirmities of body, and at the celebration of 
the Lord's Supper. The habitual and common use of it cannot be 
fairly deduced from any such permissions or customs as these ; but 
rather the contrary. 

I admit that drinking wine on all these occasions may be abused. — 
It was so by the Corinthians, at the very table of the Lord. But all 



428 Pro/eHor StmarVi E$9ay, 

abuie of it« aO drinkiiig 00 as in any degree to become intozicatedt 
every one will admit to be most solemnly and strictly forbidden by the 
Scriptures. Indeed were the drinking of intoxicating liquors limited 
to the few occasions where the drinking of pure wine, or a. liquor less 
intoxicating, has received the sanction of the Scriptures, there would 
be little occasion indeed for temperance societies or temperance efforts 
in the world. Men could hardly form a taste for spirituous, liquors 
from such a use of wines as that under consideration. 

But there are other questions still to be discussed. It must be ad* 
mitted of course, by all who have any knowledge of ancient wines, 
and of the state of those in common use among us, that the ancient 
ones were not so strong by from one third to nearly one half as ours. 
Af^er all this abatement of the comparative strength of ancient wines, 
the question may still be asked, and one of much interest it is. Did 
sober and temperate men among the ancients use wine, such wine as 
they drank which had but from ten to fourteen or fifteen per cent of 
alcohol in it, in its simple state, unmixed with water ; or did they min- 
gle it with more or less of water, so as to reduce its strength before 
they drank it ? 

This question has a highly important bearing on the answer which 
should be given in respect to the kind of wine that ought to be exhi- 
bited and used at the Lord's table. If it can be shown that Jesus and 
His disciples did in all probability, at the original institution of the 
Lord's Supper, drink tcine that teas mixed toith water 9 most readily 
should the friends of temperance avail themselves of their example, 
and remove a reproach which is not now unfrequently cast upon the 
present mode of celebrating this ordinance. 

What the general custom among all sober men of heathen Greece 
and Rome was, we have abundant assurance from the testimony of 
their own writers. 

The Athenians had a tradition, as Philochorus cited by Athenseus 
relates, (Deipnos. ii, 7,) that Amphictyon king of the Athenians was 
first taught by Bacchus himself, to temper wine by mixing it with water ; 
on which account he dedicated an altar to that god, under the name of 
Orthiusj (op^io^,) upright^ because from that time men began to return 
from entertainnients sober and upright, op^oi. The same king is 
reported to have enacted a law, that only wine tempered with water 
should be drunk at entertainments ; which law, when it fell into neglect, 
was revived again under Solon the great lawgiver of the Athenians. 

The very name of the goblet among the Greeks, crater^ Qcpanfipi) 
implies that it was a vessel where mixture was made ; for this name is 
derived from a verb which signifies to mix (xepaw.) Accordingly, the 
poetess Sappho represents Mercury as mingling ambrosia in a crater 
or goblet ; and Homer represents Wine as mingled in a crater for kings 
to drink ; AthensBus, Deipnos. x, 7. 

The proportion in which wine was thus mingled with water, varied 
according to the different taste of guests and the customs of different 
regions. Thus Athenseus, who in his tenth book has discoursed at 
large on the subject of mingling wines, and presented quotations from 
many ancient authors, represents Archippus as saying, in his Amphit^ 
ryon, ' Who of you has mingled itfov itfcj V i. e. who has mixed an equal 
quantity of water with the same of wine ? Hesiod directs to mix thru 



Professor StuarVs Essay. ' 429 

parts of water with one of wine. Anasilas, in his Nereus, sajs» * I 
never drink three parts water and one of wine,' thus alluding to the 
mixture usually practised, and desiring for himself stronger liquor. — 
Alexis, in his Nurse, says, ' It is far better to use one part of wine and 
four of water ;' i. e. better than to use a mixture of equal parts wine 
and water. Dioclbs says that four parts should be water and two 
wine. The poet Ion says that Palamades prophesied to the Greeks 
who were going to the siege of Troy, that * their voyage would be 
prosperous, if they should drink three cups with one,' i. e. three parts 
of water and one of wine ; a notable and expressive testimony in favor 
of temperance. Nichocares states the desirable proportion to be two 
of wine and five of water. Amerpsias and £upolis state the same; 
as does Hermippus also in his Dii. Anacreon mentions tioo parts of 
water and one of wine, as the desirable mixture ; and he calls the 
drinking of mere wine a Scythian practice. 

Such is the statement of Atheneeus, a writer who was very learned, 
and lived near the close ofthe second century ; and it is replete with 
interest. The last hint which he has given us from Anacreon leads 
me to remark on the meaning of the Greek phrase, to act like a Scy^ 
ihian, {^ifi<fxu6i<fai.) By this they designated the drinking of undiluted 
wine, thereby denoting that to do so was playing the part of a barba^ 
rian. This shows, beyond all question, what the usual practice among 
sober men must have been in Greece, i. e. that they did not drink 
wine unless it was mixed with water, and its strength in this manner 
reduced. 

Atheneeus moreover states that among the Locrians the drinking of 
pure wine was a capital crime, unless it wasd^ne for a medical pur- 
pose. Among the Massilians, women were ftoiiiidden to drink wine. 
Such was the case also at Miletus. Among the Romans, no slave, 
and no women of the higher ranks, nor any boys or youths of the 
same rank before they were thirty years of age, were permitted to drink 
wine. 

Beside these facts from AthenaBus, we have others of the like na- 
ture. Homer states that the dilution of Maronean wine was with 
twenty measures of water ; and Hippocrates directs that not less than 
twenty-five parts of water be added to one of Thasian wine. The 
Romans exhibited hot water in the winter, and cold ^vater in the sum- 
mer, in order to dilute the wines which they drank at their tables. — 
Juvenal calls the waiter at the table, co/tdce gelidmque minister, i. e. the 
waiter for hot and cold water. Lucian, in describing the Greek feasts, 
says, that * wine was set on the table, and water made ready, both hot 
and cold ;' in Asino. 7. See Henderson on Wines, p. 98 seq. 

Such then was plainly the custQ||hAmong all sober and temperate 

Greeks and Romans. To drink ulRited wine was to play the bar* 

barian. Athenious says of the drinking songs of Anacreon, that he 

feigned them, for he lived in a temperate manner himself; Deipnos. 

X, 7. 

Were the Hebrews equally sober and temperate ? In other words. 
Was temperance as popular and practised as much among the wor- 
shippers of Jehovah, as among nations who worshipped Bacchus and 
Yenus ? 

We might almost assume the fact that it was ; but still we will not 



480 Profeuwr Skwrt*i E$$ay. 

One thing is certain, viz. that the Hebrew laws denounce intemperance 
in terms die roost severe and awful. Sober and temperate men, there- 
fore, must have an unusual abhorrence of it Would they then, at 
their feasts either sacred or ordinary, play the Scythian^ i. e. drink 
undilated wine, and thus incur the danger and shame that result from 
intoxicating gratification ? 

I ask not what drunkards did among the Hebrews ; for there can 
be no doubt that they procured, as they almost always do, the strongest 
liquors they could obtain. But our Lord Jesus Christ and His apos- 
tles are not to be associated with intemperate men, in any respect. It 
is not supposable that they did that which, as even nature taught the 
Greeks and Romans, was immoral and barbarous, viz. to drink undilu- 
ted wine. 

I am aware of some difficulties in developing the customs of the 
Hebrews with respect to wine, because of the language employed by 
the writers of the Old Testament in relation to this subject. We have 
often the image presented of strong drink or wine mingled, i. e. mixed 
with drugs of a stimulating and inflammatory nature, and wo is threat- 
ened to those who indulge in this practice ; Isa. v, 22. But there is 
a different nUngling of wine, as I apprehend, spoken of in Pro v. ix, 
2-5, where eternal Wisdom is represented as having prepared her feast, 
and mingled her wine. That the mingling, in this case, is with water 
or milk, seems evident from Cant, v, 1, where the spouse says, * I 
have drunk my wine with my milk ;' and Isa« Iv, 1, where every one 
that thirsteth is invited to ' come and buy wine and milk without money 
and without price.' . 

How can it comport mow with the laws of rational interpretation, to 
suppose that eternal Wisdom invites her guests to a banquet, where 
such wine as only drunkards use has been prepared for them ? The 
Greeks and Romans would cry out against such an interpretation and 
say, This is representing the wisdom of God as inviting men to play 
the Scythian, 

Among sober and temperate people, then, throughout Greece, Rome, 
and Palestine, we may take it as well established, that wine was drunk 
only in a diluted state, diluted with water hot or cold, or with milk.— 
Did the Savior and His disciples depart from the usual rules of sobri- 
ety and decency, when commemorating, for the first time, the Lord's 
Supper? 

To ask the question seems to be nearly equivalent to answering it* 
If on common occasions men could not drink unmixed wine without 
incurring the reputation of being intemperate and of acting like barba- 
rians, would the Savior and His disciples, convened under circumstan- 
ces of the deepest sorrow and^H^'ess, have indulged in unusual and 
even indecent drinking ? Th^Bppositioh is revolting and even odi- 
ous. It is utterly incongruous with their character and their circum- 
stances. 

Nor can the drinking of undiluted wine on that occasion be at all 
compared with such a practice at the present day, in order to show 
that it could not have been indecorous. Ardent spirits have usurped 
the place among us of undiluted wine among the ancients. What 
should we think of a Church, then, who should now use pure brandy, 
in celebrating the Lord's Supper ? We should be filled with horror and 



Pr6fe9sar*Siuart*s E$9ay. 431 

distress. And as verilj so, I must believe, would the primitive disci- 
ples have been filled with them, if the proposal had been, in the midst 
of the deepest sonrow and distress, t6 indulge in a potation which none 
but revellers ever indulged in. Some now think pure wine a moderate 
and temperate beverage, because ^they always compare it in their minds 
with undiluted ardent spirits. But the Hebrews could make no such 
comparison. Undiluted wine, or wine mixed with stimulating drugs, 
was the most intoxicating liquor of which thej had any knowledge ; 
consequently a proposal to drink these unmingled or undiluted, at a 
religious feast, must have been just as revolting to them, as it would 
be to us to make use of brandy at the Lord's Supper. 

We are approaching near to the final issue of our inquiries, « Is it 
the duty of the Churches to make use of fermented [alcoholic] wines 
in celebrating the Lord's Supper ?' One thing we may truly say, in 
answering this question, which is, that Christ and His disciples have 
left no direction or command to make use of strong alcoholic wines.-^ 
As to their example, it certainly cannot go to show the propriety or 
lawfulness of using artificial and brandied wines at the Lord's table ; 
which most Churches are known at present to do. In respect to pure 
wine, moreover, if it can be had, there is not even a distant probability, 
as we have already seen, that it was drunk at the table by Jesus and 
His disciples, without being reduced by water. Why should we de- 
part now from their example ? If we must use wine at the sacramental 
table, then let us imitate, as nearly as possible, the original use of it ; 
and this, as we hav^ seen, could not have been wine drunk without any 
reduction by water; at least no probability of this kind can be made 
out. 

The question has been asked, * Is it necessary to employ wine at all 
at the table of the Lord V To which I would answer. It is not neces* 
sary ;* for wine was chosen as the representative of one of the natural 
aliments of the body, viz. drink ; by which is symbolized the necessity 
of our souls' being nourished by faith in the blood of Jesus* It is a 
natural emblem, even from its color, of that blood. Necessary, how* 
eVer, to symbolic use, it plainly is not The Lord's Supper might be 
celebrated without it, in like manner as we dispense with celebrating it 
in an upper chamber — with lying down — with unleavened bread — and 
with other things of the like nature. But still I do not think, with 
some of my Christian brethren, that it is expedient to dispense with 
wine at the table of the Lord. The custom of using it may be so 
managed, that no reproach, no difficulty, no danger will come to the 
Church or to religion in consequence of it. 

Let me now, before I close, present the whole subject in a plain 
and summary way, and then appeal^^the heart of every disciple of 
Christ, as to his duty in respect to th^roatter before us. 

* We are inclined to dissent front the professor on this point, as, if it had not 
been the most proper element for the purpose of commemorating the death of the 
Sayior, He certainly would not have selected it, as water or amy other liquid 
was at hand, and therefore might have been useid hj our Lord on this solemn 
occasion* had He considered it equally suitable. We think we might dispense 
wiiti water in baptism with as much propriety as we could wine in the eaerament 
qJ the Lordfe Supper, But with this exception, the above Essay has our most 
hearty approbation, and we therefore earnestly commend it te ue eeritiui con- 
-wderation of oamtders««-Ei». 



432 Professor SiuarVs Essay. 

All intemperate drinking, all intoxication from the highest to the 
lowest degree, is sin* All use of any liqaor that has an intoxicating 
quality, so as to produce intoxication in any degree, is therefore a sin ; 
and consequently it is forbidden by the Scriptures and by the laws of 
our nature. Alcohol, which is the intoxicating quality in all drinks 
that inebriate, is in no sense and never the product of distillation^ bat 
always and only of fermentation. All fermented liquors, then, that 
have any intoxicating quality, have in them one and the same intoxica- 
ting ingredient, viz. alcohol. Distillation merely separates this from 
other concomitant substances ; it never produces it. Alcohol, then, 
in wine and brandy is just the same substance. The only difierence 
in its effects is, that in wine it is somewhat concocted and mollified by 
the nutritious subi^tances of the grape which are mixed with it. But 
this difference, in a physical or moral respect, does not seem to be 
worthy of any very serious notice. Ardent spirit can be mollified by 
sugar and water, or by milk, or by food in the hke manner, and to a 
purpose quite as effectual. 

A consistent Christian and advocate of temperance must declare war 
against all intemperance in every form. He contends not against 
names merely, but against things'* To him it matters not whether a 
man becomes intoxicated on wine, metheglin, or any other drink which 
produces this effect. The effect itself is the great point in question ; 
and this, let the cause be named as it may, is always a sin. What 
matters it, whether the same enemy (for the same it is) lurks under the 
garb of pure alcohol, of brandy, wine, or any other liquor ? It is 
always one, and only one, and ihe same thing, viz. alcohol. Intoxi- 
cation is not the less a sin, because it is brought on by indulgence that 
is sumamed decent or fashionable. • 

Beside all this, our wines are from one third to one half stronger 
than those of ancient times, because of the alcohol that is superadded. 
Yet in ancient Greece, Rome, and (as we have abundant reason for 
believing) in Palestine, wine was never drank by sober and temperate 
persons in an undiluted state. It was to act like a Scythian^ to play 
the barbarian^ to drink it in such a state. 

From all this it would seem to be quite certain that persons of such 
a character as the holy Savior and His disciples, and on an occasion 
of such deep distress as that when the Lord's Supper was first institu- 
ted, did not use undiluted wine. It follows then, that if the Churches 
wish to conform to their example, they should use only wine diluted ; 
and diluted to such a degree, when it is brandied wine, as^ to reduce 
it to the strength in which it was probably drunk at the table of the 
Lord. 

It may perhaps be said, that the Christians at Corinth could not have 
intoxicated themselves on wineS^o much reduced ; as it is manifest 
they did, by wine drunk at the table of the Lord ; I Cor. xi, 21. But 
who will show us that men who could behave thus shamefully on such 
an occasion, did not drink their wine undiluted ? It is highly proba- 
ble they did ; for intoxication could scarcely be produced in most 
persons by drinking ancient wine diluted by one half or two thirds of 
water. 

Many individuals and Churches have been quite solicitous, of late, 
to obtain pure wine from abroad, i. e. wine without any brandy super- 



ProfeMior SiuarVs Essay* 433 

« 

added. I honor and coa»;Aend the feelipg whicfh leads to such a 
measure. But after aU, it. is needlesi^, as I view the subject Wines 
manufactured at home, and above atl« such as have deleterious substan- 
ces in them, ape to be shunned with horror, for fear of being poisoned. 
But wines that have merely the juice of the grape in them, with pure 
brandy added, are to all intents and purposes the same thing, so far as 
temperance is concemed^ when the strength is jeduced by dilution, as 
wines that are native and simple. The alcqhol that is made by fer- 
mentation and is contained in undiluted wines, is > just the same thing, 
so fiir as it goes, as the alcohol which is obtained by distillatioji. — 
Great pains and expense, then, are -bestowed on the importation of 
pure wines, which, so far as the temperance question is concerned, 
appear to be needless. Due dilution by water settles «11 questions 
about conforming to primitive ^isage. 

So far as the simple article of bodily health is concerned, ]{)ure*wines 
may, and no doubt are, the best, if they can be obtained before they 
become acetous, and lose their life and relish. But. the accomplish- 
ment of this is attended witJtunany difficulties* 

Why then, I ask .with a deeper interest than ever, why should ,not 
our Churches follow what ^^^ ^^ evidently the example of our Savior 
and of the apostles, in celebrating the Lord's Supper? If example is 
to be the ground of celebrating the rite, as to the mode of its celebra- 
tion, we have a plain . and palpable one ; and this would lead us, of 
course, to dilute our wines, until they are reduced to the ' same strength 
as that in which they were originally drunk at the table of the I^ord. 
lj[ow great this reduction by water should be, must depend on the 
strength of the "^ine, and on the proportion in which it was originally 
diluted at the table of Jesus and the disoiples. On such a point we 
need not be over scrupulous. The most favorite mixtures in &eece 
for drinking, was three parts water to one of wine, or five parts water 
to two of wine. Half wine and half water was deemed a mixture that 
savored of intemperance. If either of the other proportions be chosen, 
we cannot, in all probability^ be far from the usage of Christ and His 
disciples. Brandied wines of course would require still more redac- 
tion, in order to bring them near to the original standard. 

One evident .advantage would follow from the practice now recom- 
mended. It would take away all* opportunity of persons' becoming in 
any degree intoxicated at ^e sacramental table. Preadfu] as the 
thought is, yet the deacons of our Churches well know, that there are 
not wanting pemens who, at the table of the Lord, will drink deep of 
the conisecrated oup which is offered to them. /Reduced wine would 
prevent the partial intoxication in which they thus spandalously indulge. 

Another serious benefit would result from the practice above recom-^ 
mended. The friends of intemperance now reproach Christians, be- 
cause in their roost sacred rite they do the very same thing which they 
condemn in the world, viz. drink undiluted wine. This reproach would 
be efiectually removed, by following the primitive example of celebra- 
ting the supper. 

Why then •honld nOt Chnstian»— all the Churche^^-approve and 
adopt this oxaimple and practice ? If they should, would Ua^e rite af the 
holy suppef be deprived of anv part of its aignificancjn as # symbol ? 
Surely not. A symbol as significant' as the Savior HinuM^lf made it» 

YoL. VI — October, 1835* 37 



484 Profe$$or Slmarfi EiBOij/. 

• 

iff mgnificant enough for our 'purposes. And can the presence of more 
aleohol in the wine drunk at the Lord's table add more of religious 
Christian significancy to the element that we drink ! The very thought 
of this almost makes one shudder. It is revolting, if not absurd. — 
Why then should not sacramental wine he drunk dUuted ? The only 
answer that I can think of, is, « because some who approach the 
Lord's table love wine better when it is not diluted ;' which, in my 
view, is an important Teason why it should be diluted. 

But if there be apy Christian Churches, who are desirous to avoid 
every possible danger from employing even diluted wine at the sacra- 
ment, and 'who still prefer to employ wine, or rather the fruit of ike 
vine, as- one of the elements of the holy supper, they may employ un- 
fermented wine for this purpose, made from native or foreign grapes. 
We know from Gen. xl, 11, that the ancient custom among the Egyp- 
tians was, to drink tfie juice of the grape immediately after its being 
pressed out of the fruit. In this state, no quantity that could be drunk 
would 6ccasion intoxication. In this state, also, wine could be had, by 
preserving the fruit of the grape, at all seasons of the year. The new 
wine, so often mentioned in th^ Scriptures, does not mean this liquor, 
but wine newly fermented ; which is then stronger than at any other 
time, inasmuch as none of the ardent spirit is dissipated. Age dissi- 
pates, in some measure, the alcohol contained in wine ;. beibause heat, 
at the temperature of sixty degrees will distil off the ardent spirit that 
is in it. It requires to be very closely k^pt, in order to prevent this 
effect. 

The practicability of providing such a liquoi: as ajbove described 
from grapes, even in climates where the vine does not grow, cannot be 
denied. The expediency of doing it may be safely lefl to every Church 
to Judge for itself. . The lawfulness of celebrating the sacrament in 
this manner, cannot scarcely be soberly called in question. 

I take my leave of this whole subject, by placing it in the attitude in 
which Paul himself has placed a subject of the like, if not of the same 
natiire. This holy apostle, the most enlightened Christian probably 
that has ever lived, when he declared that all distinction of meats was 
at an end, and that one kind of food was no more unclean than another, 
at the very same time most solemnly declared, that in case the eating 
of njeat, i. e. of meat that had been offered to idols, should occasion 
his brother to offend, he would eat none W;hile the world should stand ; 
1 Cor. viiiv 13. 

Here then is a great principle of Christian action established. Jf 
any thing is not neteesary to our comfort and happiness, but is only a 
matter of grolt/Sco^ion to the tcute, or one of cofwenienee ; and yet tins 
thing is itgurious to the martd itHerests, or wounding to the feeUngt 
and consciences of others, from that thing wb are bound reli- 
giously TO ABSTAIN. So Paul has repeatedly and most solemnly 
decided, in his epistles to the Romans and to tihe Corinthians. 

Nor has Paul merely laid down a general principle here. He has 
identified the very case with which we are at present more particulu'ly 
concerned. He says, * It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to driwc 
wine, nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is 
made wedc ;' Rom. xiv, 81. Doubdess he did not mean, in this case, 
to prohibit wine at die sacramental table ; fbr driiddng it there gave oo 



Projiiior StwxrV$ Essay. 4^5 

» 
offence to ChriBtian brethred wh<Hn he had in hie eye. It was die 
drinking it on other or ordinary oc<;asions which he would abandon, 
and which he would that all others would abandon, when it became 
cause of offence or of stumbling* 

Let all Christians then ask the simple question. Does ^tiie conimoki 
use of wine cause others to stumble ? Is that use necessary ; or, in 
any important sense, of advantage 1 All well informed medical men 
are. agreed, that water is the best and most healthful of all drinks. — 
Stimulus by alcohol, Jn all cases, is 'to be avoided by aU who would 
most effectually promote health and^ avoid intemperance. One most 
striking and ioistructive fact fully confirms this ; although we might 
4|lasily appeal to a multitude of facts, ^he interest which t)ie Greeks 
tpok in their public games, nearly all of which consisted of feats of 
bodily agility and strength, is well known to every person in the least 
degree conversant with the history of ancient times. A Ipng tiipe was 
usually spent in preparing for these contests;, and the gymnasts (as 
they were called) who, intended to enter the lists .were trained with Uie 
greatest possible care, in respect to every thing which could in any 
way contribute to increase and confirm their physical powers. But this 
shrewd and dilscerning people did not suffer iheir gymnasts to drink 
•wine ; and they forbade it on the very ground, that the highest point 
of physical power could be more effectudSy reached without it than with 
it* . When shall we learn as much, by all the lights of science, as 
these sons of nature learned without them ? 

With such facts before us, we may well come to the conclusion, that 
nothing obliges us, then, to drink ^wine often or habitually. And sup- 
posing, that we might indulge in it on days of thanksgiving, or at wed- 
ding feasts, without sith are we called to do this 1 Are we, in any 
sense, obliged to do it? Certainly not ; and above all we are not 
permitted to do this where no duty calls, US, to do it, and where we 
know certainly that indulgence of this sbrt will injure the interests of 
the temperance cause, and lead the friends of intemperance to point to 
Qur example, and defend themselves by such an appeal. This they 
will do, so long as Christians go on in the way that many of them do 
go, in, respect to the use of wine* The times are now such, the inte- 
rests now pending are so iihportant, that it is not possible for those who 
indulge in frequent use of wine to say that they do no injury by it. If 
it be lawful^ it is not. expedient. The nature of the pfinciple laid 
down by the apostle, and the great interests of humanity, benevolence, 
and reform, demand an entire abandonment of this practice. 

For one, I feel bound frankly to say to my bretiuren. who maintain 
the right and the expediency of a conunon use of wines, that their 
arguments do not satisfy me. They object to those who proscribe 
such a use, that their arguments woidd prove a great deal too much, 
and therefore that they prove nothing. They say that if alcohol is 
proscribed, in every form, then we must not eat bread.com nor fruits, 
nor most of vegetables ; for alfof &em will yield akohA. 

But here they .are plainly in an error, as to the conclusion which 
they deduce from their prembes. Bread-corn and fruits will indeed 
yield alcohol ; but they do not contain it. Fermentation is necessary 
in all cases to its production. Before fermentatiofi, alcohol, in the 
proper sense of this Word, no more exists in bread-corn and fruits, t)ian 



436 Profesior StuarfM Eisay. 

oak timber exists in an acorn. It is certainly true that an acorn Viti 
produce oak timber, if it be 8uf!ered to germinate and grow, fiut can 
we build houi^es and ships out of acorns ? It is equally true, that 
grains and fruits will produce alcohol ; but they must first be subjected 
toTermentation. Before this, any imaginable or possible quantity taken 
into' the stomach, will produce no degree of intoxicatioti. Any liquor 
made from grapes or apples will not' produce any degree of intoxica- 
tion, if drunk in any measure before fermentation. The materials then 
from. which alcohol is made, are no more alcoholic in themselves, than 
an acorn is oak timber. Consequently all tile extravagant conchisions, 
in this respect, whicii it is said may be deduced from the principles of 
those who oppose the common use of wines, are entirely without an^ 
basis for their support or any ground to justify them. Of course, all 
appeal to such argumentation is irrelevant and invalid. 

Again it is objected to those views which I have been advocating, 
that the positions which f have taken lire such, that they must neces- 
sarily exclude the common use of all liquors that have any degree of 
alcohol in them ; and therefore they not only exclude the use of wines, 
but of cider, porter, ale, and even small beer. The consequence is, 
that these positions are taxable with extravagance, 

fiut is this really so ? Admitting the fact, that the premises which I 
have labored to establish are such as will afford- the inference that all 
liquors which are in any degree alcoholic are to be avoided, is there 
any extravagance in such a position? We will allow, for the sake of 
argument^ that the Scriptures are not explicit in relation to the question 
now at issue. Tet it does not follow, that the spirit of Scriptural pre- 
cept would not demand the renunciation of all alcoholic drinks for 
common use* The Scriptures do not specificaUy and by name forbid 
forgery^ nor ariioQ, nor contraband tnule, nor a multitude of other 
crimes. And why? Plainly because the sti^te of society which 
existed when the Scriptures were written, did not and could not give 
birth to such crimes ; consequently they did not come under the cog- 
nizance of the sacred writers. But has not the Bible, still, in requiring 
us to love our neighbor as well as ourselves, to do unto others that 
which we should in liko circumstances wish them to do to us, ^nd to 
-submit to the laws of our country, prohibited ^1 the crimes just named, 
and all others which are not specifically pointed out in the sacred re* 
cords ? This will be conceded. It does Aot follow, then, that because 
the Scriptures have not specifically forbidden the common use of all 
alcoholic liquors, that the spirit of the Bible does not require us to 
renounce them. The object of Scriptural prohibition or precept, is to 
establish the great principles of religion and morality, not to enter into 
a specific detail of particular cases. ^ 

I take it to be a sound and well established principle, that God has 
revealed His will by His works as well as by His word. That there 
are laws of our physical nature, which wi^l demand and inflict effectual 
punishment for an. ofiTence against that nature, every one knows to be 
absolutely certain. One -of these laws is, that alcoholic drink, taken 
in any shape, must disturb the natural and healthful exercise of our 
physical powers. There is no nutriment in alcohol.' The human 
stomach refuses to digest it. It is not in the proper sense of the word 
appropriated by any part of the system.. It penetrates the whole, and 



Profgiior SiuarVt Estay. 437 

ifl thrown off, at last, by the secretions and by insensible perspiration; 
It is therefore in itself, to aU intents and purpose?, apoMon. Not an 
immediate and fatal one, I admit, unless taken in considerable quanti- 
ties; but still, a gradual and subtle one. Nor is it any objection .to 
this idea, that wine may be^ and is medicinai ; for nearly all the poi* 
sons are now employed in the like manner. Any of them may, by 
habit, become so comparatively weakened in their force, that they may, 
for a long time, be daily taken. And such is the case with wine. — 
But as wine confessedly has alcohol ih it, and a^ there are other weaker 
drinks which have alcohol in them, we may with propriety ^k. What 
duty obliges us to swallow alcohol ? Is our health and strength pro- 
moted by it? In common cases they certainly are not, but rather 
impaired. Water is of all drinks the most natural, sdutary, and 
healthful. • Why renounce it then 1 What duty, what prospect of real 
good, induces us to abandon it, and take to alcoholic drinks \ To do ' 
so is an offence against the original laws of our natuj-e ; it is an offence 
against the best maxims for the preservatipn of health. Nothing can 
be more certain, than that if any alcoholic didnk whateyer be habitu- 
ally takeii, we can expect but little if any advantage from wine or any 
such beverage in particular cfises of sickness. > 

Has not Uie Author of our nature, then, very plainly bid us, that we 
should avoid the common use of any alcoholic drinks T For my part, 
I muat say, that it seems to me to be written by the hand of God Him- 
self, upon the very nature which He has given ui^. To say then that 
He. has not prohibited the common use of such drinks, would be no 
more correct than to say that He has not forbidden such a use of opium 
as the Turks make, because no precept in the Bible can be found 
whi<^ recognizes and prohibits the use of opium« 

If now, in addition to all this, it be true, as it certainly is, that no 
advocate for temperance can be thorough and effectual and also avoid 
the reproach of the intemperate, so long as he indulges in the habitual 
use of any alcoholic drink; if such indulgence serves, as it surely 
must, to keep in countenance inteipperate wine drinkers- or drinkers of 
ale and other liquors of the lik^ nature : in a word, if common induK 
gence in any kind o( alcoholic liquor injures myself and injures my 
neighbor, then God has forbidden such a use^ Tha^t these positions, 
are true, can, as it seem^ to mfe, be certainly made out to a candid 
niind ; that the conclusion which is drawn legitimately follows, I am 
not able to doubt. 

But here again it will probably be said that the argument against 
alcoholic drinks of all kinds, piust prove too much, because it will 
prove that Jesus and His disciples, who drank wine, did partake of 
drink that was injurious, and wluch therefore was prohibited, in case 
the principle that I .am defending be allowed. 

The reader will observe, however, that my argument has, all along 
and throughout, been directed against the frequent or common use of 
alcoholic drinks. To say now, that because such a use must be inju- 
rious and thereforei should he prohibited, is quite a different position 
from saying that an occfutowd use of wines and diink lesd strong is 
altogether prohibited. A poor man who. supports himself and his 
family by his daily labor, may lawfully indulge in a dinner on thanks' 
giving dfty, if he eats temperately, which it would be quite qalawfiil 

37* 



43$ Proftisor SiiuarVi E$$ay. 

for him to indulge in every day in the year. All ex^emes in these 
and the like caaes are to be avoided. An ocoasional and perfectly 
temperate use of liquors slightly alcoholic may be cheerfully and readily 
conceded) and yet the position^ that the common use of them ip inju- 
rious and therefore forbidden* may be strenuously maintained. There 
is no inconsisftency at all in this. . A poor man may lawfully weiir a 
holiday suft of clothes, on holidays, which it would be criminal for him 
to wear while engaged in his daily labor. 

It never can* be jshown that Jesus or His disciples indulged in ike 
habitual use of wine. It never can be rendered probable that they 
drank wine at all, except in a diluted state ; and such wine as they 
drank, when diluted with three quarters or more of water, (which was 
fui we have seen the probable reduction of it,) could scarcely be said, 
in any in^portant sense, to be capable of injuring them when only occa- 
sionally and temperately drunk. 

The gratification of taate^ then, would seem to be the only thing 
which can be pleaded in favor of .wine as a common drink. But this 
can never come, among sober and judicious men, to be considered as 
an object of serious- importance. Is it not trpe that those who drink 
pure water instead of alcoholic drinks, enjoy their beverage quite as 
much as wine drinkers do 1 And then, if the gratifying of taste hurts 
myself, and endangers the safety of my neighbor, and is uncalled for 
by any duty whatever, can such gratification be lawful ? 

To sum up the whole case : the advocates of thorough temperance 
tne^usures hold it not to be a nudum in «e, i. e. an evil or sin in itself, 
to drink wine occasionally. They do not eome out against the prac- 
tice on such a ground. They rather' take the ground, that, since no 
'duty calls them to the frequent or habitual use of any drink which is 
alcoholic-^— since such drinks of every kind, when often taken, injure 
rather than promote health, and afford occasion of stunibling to others ; 
they are bound on the ground of expediency and out of regard to the 
public good, to refrain from all habitual or frequent use of ^ahy liquor 
that has alcohol in it^ It is indeed only on sacramental occasions that 
a diorough' disciple of temperance, at tiie present time, will feel dispo- 
sed to taste of any liquor of this nature. . Here, the example of Christ 
and His disciples would seem to give a sanction to the use of "Wine, 
which may justly remove all scruples respecting it. But even here, 
let the example be as exactly copied as possible. X^et us not eat nor 
drink in such a manner as to bring on ourselves judgment or condem- , 
nation. Let us not exhibit such wine ^t the table of our Lord, as in 
flineieiit times would have been exhibited only at the tables of the intem- 
perate or of bacchanalians. 

In fine, it is our most serious and full persuasio>n, that if those who 
love the cause of temperance!, and plead and exert themselves for its do 
still continue the frequent or habitual use of any alcoholic drink, how- 
ever slight the proportion of alcohol may be, then the great ends of the 
temperance reformation will, after all, be in the sequel defeated. As 
soon as distilled spirits ar« expelled from common use, the. Ibiver kinds 
of alcoholic drinks will be greatly increased. Ale and cider and wine 
will become so abundant that intoxication will be made as cheap by 
means of them as by ardent spirit ; and such drinks being made repu- 
table bf ihe usage of temperate men, will be indulged in to «U degrees 



A^Ytn by Robert kmory^ A. M, 43d 

of etcess by Uiose who indulge ia any degree of iatoxicattoii. Such 
is already beginning to be the case, particularly in regard to ale wkd 
strong beer. But who does not know that the beer drinkers of Eng- 
land ipB in. all respects as degraded and wretched as the whiskey 
drinkers of our country? 

By aU that is benevolent andi sacred, then, in the cause of tempe^ 
ranee, I would beseech- the advocates of it to pause, before they give 
countenance to the fatal consequences, that will follow the upholding 
and encouraging of any alcoholic drink whatever, as one for frequent 
or common \ise. These consequences will not in the end be less de- 
leterious to the interests df the community, in any point of view, than 
if it were deluged with wine and strong beer and cider : then jrepent- 
ance on the pact of sober men, who have given countenance to such 
drinks, will be too late. The harvest will be past, the summer ended, 
and we cannot be saved. 

Christian, whoever thou art, I couneel the^ to^ look Well to this mat- 
ter, and most seriously to examine it. The great Head of the Church 
does certainly eipeet of His disciples, that they will do nothing which 
promotes the interests of intemperance, or keeps those in countenance 
who practise this vice. The gratification of bodily appetite will hot 
avail thee, in the great day of accoiUnt, as an excuse for a practice 
which keeps in countenance and encourages those who dnnk for the 
purposes of inebriation. - ^elf-denial is that to which the Gospel calls 
thee. Its high and holy principles bid, thee abstain from the very ap- 
pearance' of evil, ff thou refusest obedience, thou must be answerable 
for the awful consequences. ' , 

Churches of the Lord Jesus, who celebrate the memorials of His 
dying love, follow the example of Him whbse death you celebrate*: — 
Come not to His sacred feast, and indulge inthat which a sober Greek 
or Roman, even in a heathen, state, would have pronounced to be an 
indecorous practice, worthy only of a people like the Scythians. Let 
your wine be mingled^ like that 'which eternal Wisdonj prepared for her 
guests. * Thus may you eat and drink, discerning the Lord's body 
aright. Thus may your sacred rights be performed, without leading 
astray the weak, and without affording gaitisayers any opportunity/ to 
reproach you. The end to be accomplished by such a reformation is 
worthy of your high and holy profession, of your fervent prayers, and 
of your best efforts. 



ADDRESS 

Delivered at the annual commencement of Dickinson College^ July 16, 
: 1885, bi/JBLoB^RT Emort, Jl. M.^ Professor of Languages, 

Thk spirit of inquiry, which has prevailed in reference to educa- 
tion, has already elicited such copious ii^formation on the subject, that 
some may be disposed to regard any farther discussion of it as useless. 
Were the productions of the pen and of speech designed only to tn- 
struet^ there might be some ground for the opinion. Could we content 
onrselves to treat subjects of vital public importance like the mock 
discussions of the schools, in which die object is to see how much can 



449 JMdre$9 by R^ert Emory^ A. JIf. 

be said u|>oik a questipn, we migbt admit that if all has not been said 
on the subject .of education that was possible, at least there has been 
enough for^the fonnation^of our opinions, and the dirpetion of our prac- 
tice. But who does not know that after the public mind has bectfi fully 
enlightened upon a topic, there 3till remains the more difficult, and not 
less important duty, of moving it to action. 

- The thrilling appeals which so often emanate from the sacred desk, 
are called forth not so much by the ignorance, as by the apathy of the 
people. Week after week we repair to the house of God, and hear 
from the same lips the same holy, principles — principles which have 
perhaps been familiar to us from childhood ^-^-yet we thitik not the 
service tedious or uiinecessary, because we are conscious that as fet 
the appropriate effect upon our life and conduct has not beep pro- 
duced* 

It is for the same reason that we think that the subject of education 
cannot be too often presented for our consideration. Although much 
light has. been thrown upon it, by the seal and learning of those 
who have treated it, still their labors have not' yet produced those prac- 
tical results which constituted their only objects Parents still allow 
their children to be educated upon "Erroneous systems ; public semina- 
ries still send forth pupils unqualified for the duties of private or of 
public life ; youth continue, for the most part, blind to their best in- 
terest/3, and are pressing their way, with indiscreet haste, to stations 
for which they are utterly incpmpetent. It is useless to discuss the 
best modes of teaching, or the best systems of discipline, while we 
have such abundant and conclusive evidence thatf as yet, the very ob- 
ject itself of education is by many but little understood. Let us, then, 
devote a few moments to this inquiry : — What is the proper aim of 
education ? It is an important inquiry. It intimately concerns all the 
relations of society ; the public, in their expenditures jfor the encourage- 
ment of learning ; the parent, in selecting the instructer of his child ; 
the teacher, in adopting his course of instructiori ; the youth', in propo- 
sing to himself the proper object of his early efforts, and of his gene- 
rous hopes ; all, all, are interested to be correctly informed upon a 
point in which error may lead to 4n-eparable — to fatal consequences. 

On such a question, I would not presume, before such an audience, 
to obtrude my own crude conceptions, unsupported, as they must be, 
by any lei^h of experience. But though I may advance no new 
sentiments, and though I may defend those which have been heretofore 
advanced by no new arguments, still,. I trust, that I shall secure the 
more humble, though ^ot less useful eiid, of presenting to you the ma-' 
tured opinions of the wise. and good, in such a light, that, while they 
cannot fail to meet the approbation of your judgment, they may obtain 
the active concurrence of your practice. . 

, That education in itself is desirable, I shall not consume your time 
in attempting to prove. The superiority of intelligent over ignorant 
man ; of him, who, in. point of mentaLculture^ has been almost fitted 
for the society of superior spirits, over him who is removed from the 
brute only by the possession, not by the exercise, of different faculties, 
is ar subject which, no longer adnpits of discussion. No 1 the questipn 
is not whether education is useful, jbut what kind of education is most 
useful. We conceive that in this cs^e, as in every other which affects 



^AddruB by Roberi Emory ^ A, M. 441 

the interests of man, the proper criterion of the utility of any object is« 
its tendency to promote his happiness. What then is the , system of 
education that can best abide this test? Is it that whicH trains the 
youthfbl mind to habits of shrewd calculation, and sagacious planning 
for the accumulation of wealtht A Croesui^, in the midst of his count- 
less treasures, could nqt extort from the Athenian sage an- acknow- 
ledgment of his happiness. Is it that which sows the seeds of restless 
ambition, and creates an insatiable thirst of power? From * Macedo^ 
nia's madman' to the Corsican, the most successful aspirants have 
been as miserable as their mos^t upfortuilate competitors. Is it that 
which stores the mind with a mass of learning, undigested and unsuited 
to any practical purpose? The wise man of Israel has assured us, 
that he that thus increaseth knowledge, but increaseth sorrow. Is it 
that which exclusively fosters some already predominant faculty, adding 
the influence of att tQ that of nature, to stimulate it to an unnatural 
growth? The fate of genius, in all ages, when unsupported by judg- 
ment, has become a proverb 'of misfortune. ' No ! neither distorted, 
genius, nor barren learping, nor unlimited ppwer, nor boundless wealth, 
are sources of red happines's, and therefore, neither the^cultivation of 
the first; nor 'the acquisition of the others, is the proper leading object 
to be proposed in a course of instruction. What then is ? It is the 
euUivatian^ in just and harmonious proportion^ of all the powers ai^d 
faculties of man. This- albne can impart a coi^plete and generous 
education : that which, to use Uie language Of Milton, * fits a man to 
perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the offices, both pri- 
vate and public, of peace and war.' 

Such a definitioi;!, it is obvious, must include the cultivation not only 
of the intellectual, but also of the physical and moral powers. And 
would that my.limits permitted, or that my abilities enabled me to brand, 
with an appropriate stigma, the criminal neglect with which these have 
been treated. To depict in living coloi;s the cruel folly of those, t^ho, 
whether from misguided fondness, or blind devotion to fashion, bring 
lip their children with feeble and sickly francos, to be the prey of lin- 
gering disease, or the victims of untimely death : or to denounce, with 
becoming indignation, the still ^lore fatal thoughtlessness of those, 
who, while they train the body, and discipline the mind, leave the im- 
mortal spirit destitute of that moral cultttre,'without which bodily vigor 
is pernicious and learning a curse. But I forbear. Leaving these 
interesting and momentous topics to other and abler hands, I confine 
myself to the single branch of intellectual education. 

Here then we maintain, that however proper it may be in the diver- 
sity of human occupations, that a man should not waste his strength by 
vain attempts to pursue them all, but ratheit* .cOhfine himself to what- 
ever one may be best suited to his capacity, still this- remark does, pot 
apply to that period of life which is- devoted to education. Then the 
great aim should be, not to replenish, but to enlarge the capacity ; not 
to prepare tl^e student for any particOlar vocation, but to impart to him 
that mental vigor by which he shall be qualified for any station to which 
subsequent, events may lead. 

It is- true, that, in such a course, there must be much positive infor- 
mation acquired, and the student will be moris or less fitted for particu- 
lar offices ; but still-these are not the objects, but only the acc^mpa- 



442 JUdre$$ by Robm't Emory t «A. Jlf. 

nying remits : and so sooa as any one of them loses this its appropriate 
secondary character, and assames that of a principal^ we have at once 
an education partial in its naturcy and distorting in its effects. For, as 
he only is a perfect model of the human frame, who exhibits every 
member in sjonnietrical proportion ; as he only is a perfect moralist, 
who combines in his character every 'virtue ; so, he only is a perfect 
scholar, who has united in himself, and cultivated to their lughest extent, 
all the attributes of mind. 

The advantages for every pursuit in life of such an education, or 
as near ah approximation to it as circumstances will admit, need but be 
stated to be acknowledged. Why is it that upon the occurrence of 
those changes which are so frequent in our day, whereby the current 
of public business without being diminished, if turned into new chan* 
neb, — why. is it that there is such an amount of private suffering;? Is 
it not because the unhappy subjects of it have received a sort of me* 
chanical. education, which fitted them for nothing but the routine of the 
particular business in which they had been, engaged ? Who is the 
physician upon whom you would rely in the hour of danger ? Is it he 
who has merely stored his mind with the theories of others, and learned 
by heart the symptoms and treatment of every dis&se in the books ? 
or is it he, who, by more profound investigation, and more . intense 
study than such plodding ever required, has attained so intimate a 
knowledge of the human constituti6n, that nature seems to have re- 
vealed to him, as to her favored priest; the mysteries of life and health 1 
Who is the advocate to whom you would intrust the defence of your 
dearest rights t Is it he who, though familiar with the forms of every 
action, and the decisions of every case, is lost when out of the beaten 
track of precedent ? or is it he who has penetrated to the foundations 
of the law, and, from its profound depths, has brought forth principles 
whose apphcation is as certain as the basis upon which they rest is 
unchanging. ? 

Bui it may be af ked. What are the studies best calculate^ to afford 
this development and discipline of the faculties ? r Of the various 
branches, each has in turn had its advocates, who have urged its 
claims, if not to exclusive, at#least to pre-eminent attention. Fof one, 
I am as much opposed to ' catholicons and panaceas' in literature, as 
in medicine ; and I would as soon beUeve that all the diseases of the 
body can be healed by a single remedy, as that all the faculties of the 
mind can be trained by a single study. As then all the kingdoms of 
nature are made to furnish their contributions for the preservation of 
health and the protraction o£ life, so let every department of science 
lend its aid to the formation and perfection of the q^ental character. 
' We are not here then to, balance the respective claims of the ancient 
or of the modem languages, of the natural or of the exact sciences,-?- 
to depreciate the one or to extol the other; but, to assert the import- 
ance of each in its appropriate place. 

When it is considered, howeyer, that of these, the study of the an- 
cient languages has of late been an especial olyect of attack, it may not 
be thought improper on this occasion to make a short digresision, in 
order to test its value, by the principles which have been advanbed.-^ 
Before we do so, however, it becotnes us io remove an .objection of a 
different character which has been urged against this study, and which, 



JtddresM hy Robert Emoty^ A. M. 443 

if it be establi9hedy4a of itself sufficient to condemn it : — ^we mean that 
whi^^ relates to the mt>ral influence of the classics. We. do not deny 
that there is much in the writings of pagan antiquity that is false in 
principle, and corrupt in morality, vand which, if unguardedly imbibed^ 
can hardly fail to vitiate the youthfbl mind ; but if, as should always 
be the case, judicioUs selections be made, and if whatever that is offen- 
sive even in these be made the subject of appropriate comment, we 
conceive that the effect) so far from 'being injurious, will be highly salu- 
tary/ When does the^worship of the only true God appear more ra- 
tional tha6 when cortipared with the absurdities of heatheii mj^hology t 
When do His character and attributes appear more glorious,- than when 
He is contrasted with the contentious and libidinous deities of Greece 
and Rome? Who can Contemplate with such profound admiration, 
the pure , principles^ and the glorious hopes of Christianity, as the 
classical scholar ? The humblest and most ignorant follower of the 
Cross, indeed, may look forward With jo)rful confidence to a blissful 
existence beyond the grave ; but it is for him who has heard a Cicero, 
when contemplating that future state, exclainl, as if in anxious doubt, 
^ If I err, it is a pleasing error,' — it is for such a one to appreciate the 
assertion tha;t ^ life and immortality have been brought to light through 
the Gospel.' AH can admire the mild and peaceable spirit inculcated 
by Ohristianity ^ but it is for him who has seen inscribed on the schools 
of ancient philosophy,yand has heard fron[i the lips of its greatest mas- 
ters, that ' revenge for an injury is as great a virtue as gratitude for a 
favor,' — it is for him to feel, with fujl force, that the religion which 
teaches xsn to love our enemies is not the cunningly devised scheme of 
a carpenter's son, nor the invention of ignorant fishermen, but that, like 
its Author, it emanated from the bosom of God. ^ 

Supposing then the bbjection to the ihoral tendency of classical 
learning to be removed, we come to what at present more immediately 
cohcems us,^^ — ^the consideration of the propriety of substituting for it 
other studies,^ which, as is alleged, are more interesting in their charac- 
ter, and of greater practical utility. 

That this study is in itself uninteresting, we cannot admit ; that the 
modes of pursuing it may be so, Ve cannot deny. 'But when it is en- 
tered upon with due preparation, and prosecuted, with proper guides, it 
is a path strewed with flowers, and wmch becomes more and more/ 
pleasing at each succeeding step ; and if occasionally obstacles pre- 
sent themselves to the student, they do but afibrd him a faint repre- 
i^entation of the cojarse of his subsequent life^ for which he will be ill 
qualified if he has not previously undergone th^t mental discipline by 
which he is taught to grapple with difficulties, and even to delight in 
the encounter. . * 

But it is urged again that this is not a study of practical utility. — 
The answer to this objection will depend i^pon the meaning attached to 
that expression. If by ' studies of practical utility' be meant those only 
which have an immediate bearing Upon a man's business in life, we 
ask. What branches of liberal learning can be considered as answering 
^at description ? Why should the mass of the community be ac- 
quainted with the history of other days, or the manners and customs of 
other nationsf? What need have they^of mathematics beyond the ele- 
menlkry rules of arithmetic ? Why should they explore Ae external 



444 Addreu by Robert Emary^ JL M. 

wdrid to discover its constitution and laws, or tarn their observation 
inward, upon the more jnysterious operations of their own uiiads I*— 
What matters it to them to know whether the canopy above is filled 
with immensQ suns, the sources of light and heat to other systems, or 
is Qierely lighted up by innumerable tapers ? Whether the meteors 
which occasionally flash through our atmosphere with a momentary 
splendor, are the fragments of some shattered planet, or the * snuffings 
of the candles of heaven/?' The starry host will perform their accus- 
tomed round, the fruitful showers will continue to descend, and the 
earth to bring forth her increase, the generations of men will come and 
go, — all the operations of nature will take place with their wonted 
regularity, alike whether man be informed or uninfonned of their laws. 
It is true xhat such knowledge may render them much more subser- 
vient to our purposes ; but if this be the only -object, it needs but a few 
to accomplish it. The engineer can lay out our' rail-roads and canals ; 
the mechanician can invent and construct our machines ; the astrono- 
mer can calculaite our almanacs and nautical tables ;' the chemist can 
explore the elements of nature, and combine them for the use of the 
artist. So that, for all the purposes of practical utility,, in this low and 
contracted view of it, learning need never have emerged from the retire- 
ment of the study. But if by * studies of practical utility' be meant 
those which tend to make happier men and better citizens, which add 
to private enjoyment, to personal influence and respectability, then we 
say let all the treasures of literature and science be brought within the 
reach of. all; let history and geography be studied, to enlarge and 
liberalize their views ; mathematics, to teach the art of demonstrative 
reasoning ; the physic-al sciences to develop the philosophy of experi- 
ment and induction ; the ancient languages, to cultivate the taste, to 
exercise the judgment, to strengthen the meihory, and to furnish an 
unfailing source of elegant and rational enjoyment. They all, as be- 
fore remarked, have their appropriate offices and advantages. ■ The 
very fact that some of them are better adapted to particular individuals 
than others, sufficiently proves that they caH into exercise- different 
faculties, and that therefore the course of instruction which does not 
combine them all, cannot impart a complete' education.. ^ r 

Nor should the number and variety of thei^ studies be made an ob- 
jection to their all receiving a share of attemion. The cultivation of 
one does not interfere, with that of another. I appeal to the experienee 
of every teacher, whether Uie diminution of the number of a pupil's stu- 
dies, provided they h^ve been adapted to his years and capacity, pro- 
motes, in any degree, his proficiency in the remainder ; or wh^er it 
be not true, that a diminution of exercise is oflen followed by a diminy- 
tion of strength. The best linguist in a class may not always be the 
best mathematiciaif; but he is, hot the worse mathematician for, being 
a good linguist :. on.the contrary, the union of the two studies is much 
more likely to promote success in each. For as the strengthening of 
any one member of the body in^parts a vigor to the whole dsy^tem, so 
the exei^ise of the mind upon one subject does but qualify it for more 
efficient application to another. 

As the knowledge of any one branch is not increased, so neither is 
the tin^e of acquiring it diminished by the omission of oj^er branches. 
It doe« not follow, because a certain number of studies can-be compre- 



Addresi by Robert Emoryi A. M. ' 445 

headed tn a giiren number of years, thut, therefore', any one of- them 
will take a proportionally less time. During the period that is devoted 
to education, the youthful mind is in a course of gradual development, 
to which the different studieis, and the different stages of each study, 
must be accommodated ; and until the faculties have attained a cor^ 
responding growth, it is as incompetent to grasp the higher portions of 
any one study, as of all. The truth of this remark may be illustrated 
by the analogy of nature, in her operations in the material world. A 
productive soil may, at the same time, bring forth a variety of fruits ; 
but by no diminution of the numfier, and by no improvement in the 
system of culture, can any one of them be ripened to its just maturity, 
until the appropriate season has rolled around. 

If then it be true, that a close attention to all the branches of a libe- 
ral education is the best means of securing high attainments in each, or 
at any rate, what is more important, of promoting the vigor and energy 
of the mind, why should any of them be neglected by those who have 
an opportunity to prosecute them ? Surely not to indulge the indo- 
lence of the student, nor to gratify the whims of mere theorists in edu- 
cation. 

But it may be objected by some shrewd calculators, that, if the youth 
be not destined for professional life, such a full course of study, or, 
indeed, the thorough prosecution of any portion of it, will prolong the 
period of pupilage beyond the time at which he would be fitted for busi- 
ness, it 'cannot be denied that in the present prosperous state of our 
country, most young men could obtain a support prior to the age 
usually allotted to the termination of a college course. But let it be 
recollected that the race is not to him that starts first, but to him that 
comes to it invigorated and disciplined by previous training; — ^that 
though the well educated youth may be delayed in his entry into busi- 
nessy yet he will eventually commence it with a larger and more avaiU 
able capital. 

But did there exist any such pecuniary disadvantages in this delay 
as are represented, still the moral benefit would more than counter- 
balance them. When a young man is sent into the world with just 
enough of learning to make him flippant and conceited, with judgment 
immature, and principles unfbrmed, it cannot be expected that he 
should be prepared to resist those temptations with which places of 
business are always beset. It is this, accordingly, which has filled the 
gaming table, and thronged the theatre,— ^which has brought disgrace 
upon many a son, and anguish upon many a family. When a ship is 
launched upon the deep, the prudent mariner is careful to provide 
whatever may contribute to her safety ; but our youth are sent forth 
upon the voyage of life, with swellmg saib, it may be, but of\en with- 
out ballast, or compass, or helm, amid rocks and whirlpools more dan- 
gerous ^t Scylla and Charybdis, to encounter storms more terrible 
than ever opposed the wanderer'of Ithaca. What wonder, then,that so 
many of them meet with shipwreck and death. 

But it is uselesa to attack all the Protean forms winch the objections 
to a liberal education have assumed. We conceive that they have all 
been answwed, if the position has been established, that the grand 
bttsiaess of inteHsetual edueatbn is'to train the &culties of the mind, 
and tbat tlna tnuoiag k best etbeted by a nnion of ^1 the branchea 

YoL. YL— October, 1835. 38 



446 dddreti by Roh§rt Emory f A. M. 

of literature and science^ which are adapted to the comprehension of 
youth. 

If this view of the subject be correct, then female education has been 
sadly misunderstood. What though, in woman, the brightest endow- 
ments of genius, and the greatest acquisitions of learning must, for the 
most part, shine unseen ; yet, does the companion and partner of man, 
the mother and nurse of the future hopes of the state, the Church, and 
the world, need no expansion and discipline of mind ? Away then with 
the mean and contracted notion, that the merest rudiments of education 
will answer for a female ; that she needs no geography but that of her 
own house, no arithmetic but that of domestic expenses, no art but the 
culinary, no science but that of economy. The sentiment that female 
ignorance is the mother of domestic bhss, originated with that kindred 
sentiment, that ignorance is the mother of devotion, and should with it 
have long ago been consigned to its primitive darkness. Let it no 
V longer be countenanced jn this enlightened age, but let us afford to 
woman an education that shall enable her to claim with justice, and to 
maintain with dignity, that station in society, which is now too often 
held by the slender tenure of courtesy. 

If the view which we have taken of education be correct, then let pa- 
rents not select for their children an occupation in life, perhaps before 
they can lisp its ni^me, and educate them with exclusive reference to 
this. Until their faculties are developed, it cannot be known for what 
station they maybe qualified. He whose genius you would cramp by 
some inferior employment, may be destined to enlighten the world. — 
Give him, then, the best education within your power ; and though he 
should fidfil no such high expectations — ^though upon the termination 
of his course of instruction, he should close his books of science and 
literature for ever — nay, though it were possible that every vestige of 
positive information which he had derived from them, could be oblitera- 
ted from his memory, still his time and his labor will not have been 
spent for nought Where are the products of your own childish sports 
and boyish exercises ? They have vanished with the hour that gave 
them birth ; but the graceful form, the manly vigor, and the robust 
health, which they impartedt still remain as substantial proofs of their 
utility. 

If the view which we have taken of education be correct, then, young 
gentlemen, neither is it for you, at this early period, to be forming pro* 
jects for your subsequent career, and in^consequence to neglect what- 
ever, in your opinion, will not further them ; for be assured, that as 
you know not what may be your future coursOf so, whatever it may be, 
no portion of knowledge which you noay acquire will ever be found 
useless. Nor must you suppose that such an education can be ob- 
tained by a bare attendance within the walls of a seminary, however 
judicious may be the course of instruction, or however competent the 
preceptors. It has been well said by an eminent writer, that *• there is 
nothing more absurd than the common notion of instructioD, as if sci- 
ence were to be poured into the mind like water into a cistern, that 
passively waits to receive all that codms. The growth of knowledge 
rather resembles that «f fruit ; however external <»iuse8 may m some 
degree co-operate, it is die internal vigor and virtue of the tree that 
must ripen the juices to Ifaeir just maturity.' Tour parents, therefore, 



Addresi to the Peithologian Scftieiy. 447 

may afford you every facility with the most lavish kindness ; your 
teachers may labor in your instruction with the most unwearied assi- 
duity, but all will be of little avail, unless there be superadded the 
hearty co*operation of your own vigorous exertions* In this sense you 
must all be self>edueated. Go on* then, as J[ am happy to know that 
many of you have already begun, go on, and imitate the example of 
the diminutive but instructive model of industry ; the bitterest herb, as 
well as the most fragrant flower, will alike yield heney to your toil. — 
Go on, and in the mock combats of the gymnasium, prepare yourselves 
for the din, the dust, the keen encounter of that war of real life, in 
which the excellence of the weapons, and the skill of the combatants, 
must decide the victory. 



AN ADDRESS 

Delivered to the Peitkologian Society of the fVesleyan University^ 
Jiugtist 25, 1835, hy the Hon. E. Jackson, Jun^r. 

Wesleyan University^ August 27, 1835. 
To the Hon, E. Jackson^ Jun^r.^ 

Sir, — As a committee of the Peithologian Society, and as indi- 
viduals, permit us to tender you our most heiirty thanks for the oration 
delivered by you on the 25th instant, before the society to which we 
are attached. 

By a unanimous vote we are ordered to request a copy of that 
address for publication, which we trust you will grant, as we know that 
an intelligent public cannot but be incited by its able advocacy of polite 
literature and practical education, to extehd more zealous support to 
all institutions which have these as a part of their object. And we 
would urge the publioation of it from the farther motive, that we feel 
that its tendency will be to counteract that degrading doctrine, so rife 
in the world, teaching that all learning is a burden and extravagance, 
which does, not bring with it an immediate or prospective increase of 
wealth. 

We take pleasure in informing you, sir, that Dr. Bangs, the editor 
of the Methodist Quarterly Review, requests that the address make its 
appearance in the next number of that. periodical. 

With sentiments of the highest respect, we are« sir, your most obe- 
dient savants, John W. Burruss, \ 

T. Bangs Thorf, \ Committee, 

Mosfis L. Scudder, j 

{Mr, Jackson^ s Reply,) 

August 28, 1835. 
Gkntlemen, — Though the address of which you request a copy is 
very unworthy of publication, it is at your service to dispose of as you 
may think proper. Yery respectfully, your obedient servant, 

£. Jacksoni Jun'ir* 
To Messrs. John W, Burruss^ \ 

T, Bangs Thorpe, > Committee. 
Moses £. Scudder^ ) 



448 Jldir9$$ io the Peilholagian Socitiy. 



ADDRESS. 



Gkntlkken of the PiiTHOLoaiAN SociiTTf— In undertaking the 
task to viiich your jQattertng inntation has called me, I have been influ- 
enced by no vain expectation of fulfilling it.to your ratisfactioBy or ray 
own. Profoundly senilible of the difficulty of preparing a discourse 
equal to such an occasion, or of worthily treating the great interests of 
literature and science, my object in acceding to your wishes has been 
solely to testify a respect for your institution, and a desire to evade the 
performance of no duty devolving upon me as a member of your 
society. 

With unfeigned pleasure I congratulate you at this your first public 
celebration upon the success that has thus far attended your perse- 
vering exertions to establish a society, which, having in view the lauda- 
ble design of mutual improvement, deserves the encouragement and 
good wishes of every friend of education. In spite of unusual and 
disheartening obstacles, you have from a small band grown to respecta- 
bility in numbers, have accumulated a valuable library, the fruit of 
individual liberality, and have laid the foundations of an association, 
which, if maintained with equal zeal by those who shall come after 
you, will secure to your names a lasting and grateful rememlmuice. 

Such societies have existed so long in most of our American col- 
leges, as to have fully tested their utility, and not unfrequently have 
been deemed worthy to enlist the ablest pens and most eloquent 
tongues, to do honor to their anniversary commemorations. Their 
aim being more immediately directed to improvement in the arts of 
composition and elocution, whether they be viewed as an innocent re- 
laxation from the more dry pursuits of science, or as a stimulating ex- 
citement of the varied faculties of the mind, theycannot but be deemed 
important auxiliaries in the plan of education. It is not cle^r, indeed, 
that this field for exercising and invigorating the intellectual powers, 
and training youth in mimic combats for the busy strife which awaits 
them beyond the academic walls, has ever yet been improved to the 
extent of which it is susceptible. Though the scheme of collegiate 
instruction has been greatly enlarged and advanced in our country, the 
order and classification of study improved, and the diligence of the 
student rewarded with Jfar more ample stores of learning than our col- 
leges could formerly bestow, it may not be an unprofitable inquiry for 
those upon whom devolve the honorable responsibilities of instruction, 
whether the value of societies like yours has received a corresponding 
attention. 

Among their obvious advantages may be enumerated the active ex- 
ercise of the invention, memory, and imagination. By this intellectual 
collision the mind is expanded, the recollection of scientific and histo- 
rical facts refreshed, and new illustrations and perceptions are awa- 
kened. Errors are corrected, definite ideas of things fixed, self-com- 
placency checked, and intellectual torpor prevented. A generous 
emulation quickens the attention, bending it to close investigation and 
methodical arrangement ; without which the mind cannot arrive at 
conclusions satisfactory to itself, or convincing to others. Precision 



Addre$$ to the Peiihologian Society. 449 

of language, fluencj of expression, and graceful elocution impercepti- 
bly follow, until at length the deep fountains of eloquence are unsealed, 
and powers are revealed to the surprised and delighted youth of which 
he was before unconscious. 

A lofty ambition, such as bums in the bosom of a gifted few, may 
not need the incentives of emulation to arouse its ardor in quest of 
knowledge ; but the mass of mankind, require competition, and hence 
every system of education which has ever been devised, professes to 
found itself upon this honorable principle. The effect of well regula- 
ted debating societies, is to call into action upon a wider scale whatever 
has been gained by solitary application, and to excite efforts far beyond 
those which are prompted by the desire of excellence in the daily round 
of study. In the latter case, that desire is limited to the just compre- 
hension of portions of science, but in the field of debate every science 
may be made to contribute its aid, and to furnish weapons whose com- 
bined and dexterous use tasks the utmost energies of the mind. 

The estimation in which such exercises are held will vary with the 
different views which each one may entertain on the subject of educa- 
tion. . He who contemns the charms of felicitous style, or the graces 
of oratory, though he may not appreciate their importance in these 
departments, yet nevertheless will not withhold his approbation of their 
influence in forming and strengthening the reasoning powers* Such 
diversities of opinion upon the proper objects and direction of educa- 
tion necessarily arise from the different temperaments and habits of 
tnen ; and in this age of free discussion have given birth to an endless 
variety of systems for the instruction of youth. The comparative ad- 
vantages of public and private tuition, the value of ancient claossical 
learning, the establishment of a uniform and equal standard of educa- 
tion,^ — these, with many other topics of a similar nature, have been 
agitated in every portion of the civilized world, with a zeal corres- 
pondent to their interest and importance. 

In our own country, the structure of civil society differing essentially 
from all historical experience, and presenting new moral and intellec- 
tual aspects for philosophical examination, these inquiries respecting 
the system of education best adapted to a rational and self-governed 
people, have been pushed farther, and I had almost said more extrava- 
gantly, than in any other part of the world. The novelty of our social 
condition giving plausibility to speculations which cannot always be 
contradicted by analogy, or confuted by experience, has opened a wide 
field to visionaries and enthusiasts for ihe display of their favorite theo- 
ries, and it is not less remarkable than creditable to the good sense of 
the people, that thus far these innovators have not been able to make 
any serious inroad upon the reverend usages and discipline of our 
universities. 

Nevertheless the predominant spirit of the times is improvement. — 
Already its advances have changed the character of the whole civilized 
world by such rapid triumphs of art, that nothing less than the most 
ext^or<&iary discoveries and inventions can arrest the public attention. 
Every element has been vexed by this active and insatiable principle^ 
its hidden virtues explored, and in innumerable forms made tributary 
to the service of man. Nor has this eager curiosity been confined to 
the material world. The human mind has been profoundly analyitedt 

38* 



4$d Addrets to ike Ptiihologiaiii Society. 

its various faculties discriminated and defined, and its opeiatiohs as- 
mated hj the most lucid order and arrangement. The first effect of 
these close and liberal investigations has been to establish a sound and 
just phiiosophj in contradistinction to the arbitrary dogmas which bad 
for ages been received upon the authority of distinguished names ; the 
next effect has been a general amelioration of the social state through- 
out the world. No sooner had the mind been permitted to discover 
the true relations of things, than men became impatient of every un« 
just restraint of their natural or civil rights, and after many and pain* 
fui struggles, have in some countries wholly, and in others parttaHy 
reclaimed their original inheritance. In the more fhvored portions of 
the human family, the principles of civil liberty, guaranteed by law, 
have become so completely incorporated with every notion of govern- 
ment, that no change or revolution can ever wholly eradicate them. 
Instead therefore of that restless anxiety which characterizes nations 
seeking to acquire their primary rights, a people secure of their pos- 
session are intent only upon turning them to the utmost possible 
advantage for themselves, and for mankind. Hence in our own happy 
country, no plan of nK>ral or intellectual improvement, no scheme of 
benevolence or philanthropy, no experiment to mitigate the ills of life 
or advance the interests of society, is viewed with indifference. Tbe 
foundation of free schools and other institutions for education, the 
organization of societies for the diffusion of the Gospel, the establish- 
ment of foreign missions, and last though not least, the vadt and noble 
design of African colonization, all bear honorable testimony to the 
active influence of free institutions. The surprising changes wrought 
by the light of science in the condition of society are illustrated by 
nothing more strikingly, than by the increased facilities of intercourset 
Which not only strengthen every where the bonds of human sympathy, 
but create a chain along which the spark of knowledge is conducted 
with electric rapidity. Those are now living who may remember when 
the literary communication between nations was confined to a fe^r 
learned men, who contrived with difficulty to maintain with each other 
an uncertain and irregular correspondence ; but now every novelty in 
science, every production of genius, from whatsoever qualter of the 
globe, is speeded over pathless oceans by the unrivalled skill of modem 
navigation in an incredibly short space of time, or borne with still 
greater celerity into the heart of every country by the swifl-winged 
power of steam. 

Amid these various and active improvements the subject of educa- 
tion could not fail deeply to engage and divide the public mind. Much 
that was deemed venerable by our fathers has been exploded* by com- 
mon consent, as inapplicable to our altered condition, and the question 
still remains undecided, whether yet more shall not be sacrificed upon 
the altar of reform. Upon the just determination of this question the 
welfare of future generations greatly depends, for it wt9y not be denied 
that education exerts a decisive influence upon national as well as 
individual character, and that we cannot be too cautious in fixing the 
standard which may affect the destinies of our beloved country to &e 
remotest time. 

While a few still cherish an exclusive veneration for the ancient 
schools, others are willing to concede much to the vast acquisitions of 



to Ae Pnikohgian 8me(y« 451 

\ • ' 

experimenUd aeieoce in modem times, while a tlurd petty with equal 
a^eai reject whatever is not stamped with an obvious, and as it were 
tangible atikty. As usual, the truth probably lies in ^e middle course, 
which^ embracing a due portion of the practical science of the age, 
combines also sufficient of polite learning to save us from degenerating 
into mere utilitarians. 

That a lively concern for the cause of education, and a wise discretion 
in the choice of means, are not only important, but absolutely essential 
to the permanence of free institutions of govemment, is obvious to the 
aliglrtest reflection ; since the only sure tenure of popular ri^ts is their 
thorough comprehension. Natiofhs subject to despotic rule have but a 
brief lesson to learn, that of passive obedience ; but where the governed 
are also the gbvemors, no one can become too familiar with the various 
and complicated interest of political and social economy. . The appa- 
rent simplicity of our own institutions betrays when closely examined 
the most consummate art, and whoever presumptuously imagines that 
such a scheme of civil government as binds together this vast confede- 
racy may be easily devised or successfully imitated, 

* Sndet mtiltam, frastraqite Uboret 
Ansat idem.'— 

Who shall assert dien that any degree of moral or intellectual culture 
is superfluous to a people daily called, under the auspices of such a 
constitution, to the exercise of the highest political privileges, and the 
decision of the gravest questions of human polity 1 

Yet there are those, I regret to say even among our own countrymen, 
who refuse to admit the importance of the higher grades of literary 
institutions, and regard them with a jealpus and unfriendly eye, as the 
nurseries of principles dangerous to freedom, as well as the seats of an 
unprofitable learning. A prejudice of this kind must be the oflspring 
of ignorance, rashness^ or depraved moral taste. Barely indeed has it 
the sanction of those to whose opinions experience gives authority, who 
having themselves drank deeply at the wells of science are best capa- 
ble of judging of its effects. When we cohsider that every new acqui- 
sition of knowledge brings man one step nearer to the Supreme 
Intelligence,, can it be worthy of a civilized age to wage war like the 
fanatic Saracen upon the asylums of learning, to bring the human mind 
down to a dead level, to crush the aspirations of genius, or circumscribe 
the pure light of science ? 

It is a vulgar error which confouniis the character of cloistered 
learning with the liberal spirit of modem institutions. Science in 
those days was the handmaid of oppression, forging chains for, the 
mind when the body was already enslaved. Education was literally 
a craft, in which the truths of nature and the discoveries of art were 
blended with a vain and frivolous philosophy, deeply tinged with super- 
stition, and basely dedicated to the service of arbitrary power. The 
darkness of popular ignorance favored every species of imposture, and 
gave to its false lights a meteor brilliancy which dazzled and led astray 
even the strongest minds. The sublime sciences were prostituted to 
(he juggles of astrology and divination ; the study of physics was made 
subservient to the idle pursuit of alchemy ; reason moved medialdcally, 
accctfding to the rules of arbitrary logic, and theology was distorted by 
fables as monstrous as those of hea&en mytidology. From this delu- 



45S Addr€$$ to tlu Peiikologian S&eietf. 

sire and pernicious system the world was at length awakened, by the 
simplest yet greatest of human inventions, and lifted upon the mighty 
wings of the press, science soared aloft free and unfettered over the 
whole civilized world. The unworthy tenants of academic shades 
were displaced by the ministers of truth, and with the mummeries of 
religious bigotry for ever fled the sophistries of pedantry, the ostenta- 
tion of learning, and the creeds of political slavery. 

It is likewise a very common and pardonable error of self*taught and 
strong-minded men, who have hewn out, as it were, their own ednca- 
tion without the aid of scholastic discipline, to indulge an overweening 
contempt for that portion of polite learning which to the classical stu- 
dent is an object of fond veneration. SucIl persons, referring every 
thing to tiie test of its direct applicability to ihe business pursuits of 
life, cannot easily be made to comprehend how the study of a dead 
language, or the perusal of ancient classics, can at all compare in im- 
portance with a knowledge of the principles of the steam engine, or 
the mysteries of trade. They make no allowances because they do 
not always realize the fine moral influence which these studies exert 
upon the character, and which have procured for them in some of the 
schools the honorable and exclusive title of humanities. As intimately 
connected with individual and social prosperity, the practical sciences 
are of the first importance, but if man be designed for something 
more than to make provision for his immediate necessities, or the 
gratification of his senses, then whatever tends to refine the taste,' pu- 
rify the heart, and exalt the imagination, deserves also a prominent 
place in the scheme of education. A people whose knowledge should 
be confined to demonstration, or to mere facts, would be in danger of 
becoming not only skeptics in religion, but dull and unenterprising in 
character. The mind requires variety of food for its healthy action, 
and if we could destroy the records and the writings of antiquity, we 
should discover, when too late, that we had lost one of the greatest 
spurs to human intellect, as well as one of the chief sources of its 
decoration. 

Whether it be the necessary result of a general system, or a proof 
of the peculiar influence of classical literature, it is nevertheless true, 
that of the multitude of names distinguished in modem history, for that 
wisdom and eloquence that sway and guide the aflairs of nations, or 
survive in imperishable records to posterity, the far greater number 
have been deeply imbued with a knowledge of the ancient iclassics. — 
Scarce a jingle exception can be found amfong the best European wri- 
ters whose style does not bear the plainest evidence of the models of 
antiquity, upon which they were formed. Nor does this justify the 
charge of a tame and servile imitation, any more than the close study 
of the remains of the great masters of painting or sculpture argues the 
absence or the restraint of original genius. Whether we imitate the 
excellencies of others, or aim at originality, still nature is the great 
prototype, and our success must always be in proportion to the close- 
ness of our adherence to her unerring standard. 

The task of public instruction is so responsible and laborious, so re- 
plete with sacrifices and privations ; its aims are so noble and philan- 
thropic, and the character of its ministers for the most part so exemj^ary, 
that we might well wonder how they should become objects of jeaiousy 



Jiddrm to the Peiihologian &cie^. 463 

or hostiiiiy* eoyld we fofgat that tbb is the comcoon fiite of the bene* 
factors of mankind. If Socrales could not escape the charge of cor- 
rupting .the youth of Athens, nor ^e acknowle^ed truth of Aristides 
save hun from banishment, it were vain for those who imitate their 
example to indulge too great a confidence in a better fortune. The 
infidel regards them with dislike as one of the bulwarks of Christianity : 
to the loose and unprincipled there is a daily beauty in moral restraints 
and steady discipline which makes. their own lives hideous. The idle 
and ignorant always look with envy upon superior illumination, while 
many without a motive, and without reflection, hastily condenm that 
which they have taken no pains to understand. But while the educa- 
tion of American youth continues to be directed by men of such blame* 
less lives and active benevolence as those who have ever graced our 
seats of learning, there is every reason to believe that they will expe- 
rience a protecting and fostering care at the hands of a just and intel« 
ligent people. 

If we proposed to illustrate the value of such a course of liberal 
studies, as our universities atone afford by reference to any particular 
science, no one perhaps would exemplify it more forcibly, than that 
which of all others stands first in our estimation, because it is the 
source and the safeguard of our dearest rights, — I niean the science of 
law. Notwithstanding the simplicity of our theory of government, its 
practical operation is complicated by social and political relations even 
more diversified than those which spring from monarchical institutions. 
The commercial and international code which regulates our trade and 
foreign intercourse is co-extensive with that of other states, while our 
domestic legislation superadds the necessity of a perpetual vigilance to 
conform it to the constitutional standard. The peculiar importance 
therefore, to us, of a science whose * seat,' it has been finely said, * is 
the bosom of God, and its voice the harmony of the world,' is univer- 
sally confessed ; and we may the more readily, alas ! appreciate its 
value at this time, when the recent death of one of its brightest oma. 
menta is deplored, not merely as the loss of a wise and virtuous citizen^ 
but in connection with his official station, as a great national calamity. 
A certain forensic dexterity, and practical familiarity with existing 
laws may be acquired by sagacious and vigorous minds without the aid 
of liberal education ; but no jurist has ever lefl 9. durable name in the 
annals of his own or of other countries, whose labors have not had their 
foundation in a previous course of academical learning. 

* Sciences,' says a great authority, * are of a sociable xfiaposition, and 
flourish but in the neighborhood of each other ; nor is there any branch 
of learning but may be helped and improved by assistances drawn from 
other art^. If therefore the student in our laws hath formed both his 
sentiments and style by perusal and imitation of the purest classical 
writers, among whom the historians and orators. will best deserve his 
regard i if he can reason with precision, and separate argument firom 
fallacy by the clear simple rules of piire. unsophisticated logic ; if he cstn 
fix his attention and steadily pursue truth through any the most intri- 
cate deductions, by the use of mathematical demonstrations ; if he has 
enlarged his conceptions of nature and art by view of the several 
branches of genuine experimental philosophy ; if he has impressed on 
his mind the sound maxims of the law of nature, the best and most 



454 Addreii to ihe PHihologian Society. 

authentic foundation of human laws ; if lasdjr he has contemplated 
those maxims reduced to a practical system in the laws of imperial 
Rome ;— if he has done this, or any part of it, a student thus qualified 
may enter upon the study of the law with incredible advantage and 
reputation.' 

Such has been the testimony of the wise and learned in favor of 
academical instruction in the arts and sciences necessary to the suc- 
cessful pursuit of either of the liberal professions. It is in these schools 
that the most eminent expounders and vindicators of our constitution 
and laws have already been trained, and from this source, whatever 
sciolists may assert to the contrary, will continue to be drawn through 
all time the ablest champions of our political rights. It is no argu- 
ment against this position, that so few among the numbers who receive 
collegiate honors, attain to great distinction, for though all cannot be 
conspicuous, all may be useful in their day ancl generation, and diffuse 
even in a limited sphere the influence of sound and enlightened princi- 
ples. Where public opinion regulates the acts of a government, it is of 
the last importance that that opinion should be correct, and it is no 
disparagement of the acknowledged intelligence of the« American peo- 
ple to suppose that questions will frequently require their decision, 
demanding more time, experience, and study, man can be conveniently 
spared from private engagements. It is upon such occasions that 
education makes itself felt, and no society is so small as not to contain 
some at least, whose disciplined habits of thought greatly assist the 
just and speedy formation of public sentiment. In this class of indi- 
viduals the great proportion will be found to consist of those who have 
enjoyed the advantages of academic instruction, and furnishes strong 
testimony of the practical benefits which it confers upon society. 

So far also from being dangerous ix^ their political tendency, the 
learned institutions of modem times ]are the favorite haunts of liberty, 
where the sacred fires will longest bum, because they are fed by the 
hands of virtue and religion. Every appeal wmng from suffering 
humanity, every cry of freedom tliat breaks the stillness of European 
despotism, is echoed back from the bosom of her universities. But 
though the flame of liberty glows no where more brightly than in the 
breast of the solitary student, it is not among the votaries of learning 
that are found those factious demagogues and turbulent politicians 
who disturb the peace and endanger the safety of nations. Absorbed 
in more tranquil and innocent pursuits, they have little thirst for popu- 
lar applause, or leisure to brood over schemes of ambition. If they 
turn their thoughts sometimes to public affairs it is with minds enlar- 
ged, elevated, and warmed by the recollection of those bright memo- 
rials of ancient virtue which their studies have made familiar. To 
meditate aught against the trae interests of their compatriots would be 
in them a double crime, involving treason against their country, with a 
sacrilegidus contempt for the inspirations of classic story. The divine 
lessons of Homer, the glowing patriotism of Demosthenes, the stem 
virtue of Tacitus, and the indignant muse of Juvenal, restrain with 
salutary awe the heart that has once acknowledged their power. Who 
that has ever enjoyed the story of Ulysses tried by every vicissitude of 
fortune, yet ever sustained by reliance upon Heaven, has not been 
taught an exalted lesson of piety. Who can contemplate the portraits 



Addr€$8 to the Ptiihohgian Society. 455 

drawn by the masterlj hand of Plutarch without being enamoured of 
truth, and inspired with love of country ? Seldom can we rise unmo- 
ved from the spectacle of human wo, or the triumphs of human virtue', 
however plainly depicted ; but how much more yivid and durable is 
the impression, when genius invests the tale with its most captivating 
graces, or transmits it in harmonious numbers to the latest posterity ! 

A.n objection to the mode of .education we have been vconsidering 
has had its origin in a real or affected doubt of the practicability or 
expediency of attaining a high literary character in a republic constitu- 
ted like ours. The argument of its inexpediency is calculated to pro- 
voke a smile, when contrasted with the morbid impatience invariably 
excited in us by reflections upon our national literature. The most 
cynical railer at classical learning at home indignantly repels the 
assaults of foreigners upon the merits of our writers, and holds it to be 
a duty to assert for his country the lofliest pretensions in arts as well 
as arms. While such an honorable pride inflames the bosoms of 
Americans, a pride of country which abroad merges domestic discon- 
tents, and even party feuds, in the broad sentiment of patriotism, there 
is little room to apprehend the want of incentives to fame, or indif- 
ference to the cause of letters. 

This alleged incompatibility of our civil institutions with excellence 
in the liberal arts and sciences, is deduced among other reasons from 
the absence of the patronage of privileged orders, or of the support of 
royal munificence. But if these causes have sometimes contributed to 
the encouragement of learning, they have as frequently hastened its 
decline, by substituting for the vigorous fruits of unfettered intellect 
the sickly growth of flattery and courtly dependence. History teaches' 
us that the love of fame has been in all ages the most powerful incen- 
tive to literary renown, and that however the beams of patronage and 
power may warm into life the fine arts, of which wealth i^ the indis- 
pensable aliment, yet the human mind displays its masculine energies 
no where so conspicuously as in republican communities. Simplicity, 
the attribute of greatness, does not belong to a highly polished and 
artificial condition of society, but on the contrary, the most majestic 
efforts of genius have illustrated ages of comparative rudeness. The 
master poet of antiquity recited his verses for a precarious subsistence 
tq a people little removed from barbarism, and the sublimest^ bard of 
modem times flourished under the aui^ices of a Puritan republic. — 
The influence of hereditary institutions may multiply the number of 
the highly educated, but how few of that favored class profit from their 
superior advantages, beyond the increase of their own susceptibilities 
to the refinements of taste, or ever turn their attainments to the honor 
and improvement of society. Even that nation from whom we are 
proud to derive our origin, owes to the republican features of its con*< 
stitution the moat brilUant names which adorn its annals, men who 
. sprang from the humbler walks of life, graced with no titles but those 
of genius and virtue, and unaided but by the strong impulse of neces- 
sity and ambition. From anch examples we may learn that intellectual 
po^er does not depend upon any particular forms of civil society so 
much as upon the freedom of its operations, and that like the mountain 
pine it can strike its roots deeply in the roughest soil, and thrive in the 
' most inhospitable atmosphere. 



456 JtddreiM to the Ptitliologian Society. 

The rise and progress of philosophy, understood in its largest sense, 
has been slow and laborious wherever it has flourished. The infancy 
of nations is sufficiently occupied with the first wants of nature, in 
providing for security, and 'in the establishment of order and good 
government With the attainment of these ends comes that leisure 
for the prosecution of studies which is not to be found amid the din of 
arms and the busy pursuits of commerce. There is therefore nothing 
discouraging in Uie fact that a people scarce fif\y years old, still ac* 
tively engaged in laying the foundations of a mighty empire, should 
haye added little to the stock of human learning, in comparison with 
more ancient nations. The wonder is, that they should have done so 
much, and presages what they may do when the enterprise of its citi- 
zens shall seek new channels of distinction and compete with the old 
world in literature, as they have already successfully done in practical 
science. We need not be ashamed to acknowledge that our chief mo- 
tive to intellectual exertion has thus far been necessity, since wherever 
the path of knowledge has held out the prospect of reward, we have 
been enabled to demonstrate that it is not impossible to keep pace with 
our trans- Atlantic brethren. The same genius which has enabled 
commerce to overcome the current of the mightiest rivers, and to ex- 
plore the most remote and perilous navigation, which is rapidly uniting 
the widely distant parts of this continent by roads and canals, sur- 
passing in many respects those of ancient Rome, — ^which, in a word, 
has raised iis from the condition of feeble colonies to the first rank of 
civiUzed nations, will prove in due time equally capable of disputing 
with others the palm of excellence in every department of literature. 

Nor are there wanting to Americans objects of as lofly pride and 
generous ambition as ever fired the breasts of any people of ancient or 
modern days. Placed on a new and vast theatre, where, for the first 
time since the creation of the world, man enjoys every right which rea- 
son and nature approve, elevated by the recollections of a history, glo- 
rious, though brief, and conscious of the immense importance to the 
whole human race of the social experiment in which they are engaged ; 
have any motives more dignified, have any impulses more exciting co- 
operated on human ambition ? 

We cannot indeed point to long lines of noble ancestry — our pride is 
not soothed by the display of heraldric honors — no magnificent remains 
of art attest our ancient power and wealth, and it is but within a few 
years that even our name has been recorded as a naticm in the pages 
of history. But into those years what events have been crowded !-^ 
Handfuls of men, the germ of future states, present themselves first 
to the view, at wide intervals along our extensive coast ; their settle* 
n^ents scarce visible upon the margin of primeval forests. From these 
points we behold them spreading in small but resolute bands over un- 
explored regions, looking to Heaven and their own brave hearts for 
defence against wild and hostile tribes. Through what scenes of isuf- 
fering, of violence, and blood were they doomed to pass, before estab- 
lishing their infant communities in security and peace ! Scarcely had 
this been accomplished, when new and more portentous dangers 
threatened to frustrate ail their labors, and deprive them of dieir dear- 
bought freedom* For seven years a powerful and haughty foe, who 
had carried her conquests to the ends of die earth» poured upon this- 



Addrtii to the Peitkologian Society, 457 

devoted nation an unceasing ^torm of wan Amid plundered commerce 
and conflagrated towns, amid the destruction of youth and age by the 
edge of the sword, or the toils and diseases of the camp, no thought of 
submission, no propitiation of the wrath of an offended monarch, could 
be extorted from this high-minded people. While we are enjoying the 
peaceful fruits of that memorable struggle, it is wise sometimes to look 
back upon its scenes, that we may neither forget the debt of gratitude 
we owe, nor the value of privileges purchased at so dear a price. 

Every part of our common country furnishes a page of local history 
full of adventurous enterprise and extraordinary changes. Two centu- 
ries ago, the valley through which flows the noble river on which we 
reside, was one unbroken wilderness. At this day probably a million 
of inhabitants dwell there in peace and prosperity, strangers to suflTer- 
Ing and want, and experiencing every advantage which equal and bene- 
ficent laws and widely diflused education can confer upon man. — 
Contrast this picture with that of any other nation of ancient or modern 
times, with the system of conquest and colonization of the Greeks and 
Romans, or the gigantic schemes of the first civiUzed monarch of 
Russia, and which of them presents the more noble and animating pic- 
ture of national glory, or reflects the highest credit upon the race of 
man ! What American would exchange the sentiments of honest pride 
with which he surveys the peaceful triumphs of civilization in his na- 
tive land, for all the blood-stained trophies of the Roman legions, or 
the thousand victories of France or England? That which enhances 
the value of these considerations is the fact that this pacific progress 
is not the oflspringof a timid or unwarlike character, but the necessary 
result of a scheme of government founded in reason and true philan- 
thropy. The tendency of our institutions leads us to estimate nations 
not by the terror of their arms, or the extent of their possessions, so 
much as by the number of benefactors they have contributed to the 
human family. Take from the pages of history the names of those 
who have taught mankind how to live and how to die, and what remains 
but a dark disgusting picture of human vices. Amid the weary waste 
of ambition and of crime, these appear like the verdant spots and gush- 
ing fountains of the desert When the artificial distinctions of society 
are forgotten, when national antipathies sleep with the promiscuous 
multitude in the grave, the examples of such men become the common 
property of mankind, and survive in a wider sphere of usefulness and . 
fame. 

But while we contemplate with pride the rising glories of our des« 
tined career, let us not forget the warnings of experience, nor that it 
has been the lot of nations invariably to decline after reaching the me- 
ridian of prosperity. How far our institutions may contain that con- 
servative princq>le which has hitherto been sought in vain, and how 
long they may ward off the dangers of revolution and dissension. Om- 
niscience can alone perceive; but this at least we know, that if we 
cannot escape the commcm doom of nations, Xnir fall can only be pro- 
tracted by the c^dHwaium of otrfue and the dkeenUnaium of knowledge, 
The.spirit of civil convulsion is always fierce, savage, anid destructive 
in proportion to the ignorance of the people. The unchastened instincts 
and imdisciplined passions of men are easily roused and ex<6ited to 
break through the restndnla «f |aw ; but an eiducaled people are slow 

YoL. JL^Octoher, 1835. 39 



458 Addreu to the PeUhologian SocUtj/. 

to embark in revolutioDB — ^they weigh the grouadB of discontent, esti* 
mate coolly the prospect of relief, and ultimately rally to the side of 
reason and justice. However weak and eredidous minds may be< 
moved by artful misrepresentations .to repine at imaginary discontents, 
the great body of the American people, so long as tiiey continue tp be 
an educated people, must see and feel what no other nation has ever 
before realized, that no change can improve their condition, and that 
therefore every one is concerned to maintain the cause of law and 
order. 

Theie exhortations to speed the march of reason and improvement 
address themselves with peculiar force to such of our youth as enjoy 
the privileges of collegiate instruction. Upon the soundness of their 
views, and their fidelity to the cause of learning the literary reputation 
of our country almost wholly depends. If they imbibe just notions of 
moral and intellectual philosophy ; if* they carry into society a taste for 
the elegancies of literature and Uie arts ; if they inculcate by example 
a zealous esteem for the institutions of learning, their combined influ- 
ence will operate with powerful and salutary energy upon the public 
mind. Before such a concentrated light the mists of iterance and 
the delusions of prejudice will melt away, and our country will find in 
her ingenious and accemplished sons more safety than did Thebes from 
the armed hosts that issued from her hundred gates. 

To realize these auspicious results is no slight achievement ; to 
qualify himself to guide and direct the taste of others, the student must 
by patient labor first purify his own. The course of study in our uni- 
versities, if diligently prosecuted, is sufficient to give to the judgment 
sound direction through life. But whatever aids experience may sup- 
ply to smooth and facilitate the rugged paths of study, they avail little, 
unless seconded by the closest application, and the most persevering 
attention. The imagination, spreading its flight over the intermediate 
gradations of labor and diligence, is too prone to revel in the anticipa- 
tion of that goal which can only be reached by slow and arduous steps. 
This impatience so natural to youth is often augmented by that stern 
necessity which prematurely forces the American student upon the 
theatre of active life, and requires therefore the greater vigilance to 
restrain it within the bounds of reason. The e&o^a of hasty and 
superficial culture are the more serious, because they are irreparablei 
espedaMy when accompanied wi^ the self-complacenoy which cannot 
discover its own deficiencies. Happy, thrice happy is he who sees in 
the preliminary stages of education, only an introchiction to the highest 
enjoyments which this world affords, who rejoices each day in the acqui- 
sition as it were of new senses, and new capacities ; who feels his 
moral and intellectual power dilate, his dignity and . value in the scale 
of created beings augment, and oui reflect with proud aatisfaction that 
'these are the trophies of his own exertions. 

To you, gentlemen, and to your fellow students the padi of science 
is opened under circumstances which are equally aaul^ct of felicita- 
tion to this communis, as to youiseives* Filiaig the place of an 
ephemeral institution which ejnmplified one of those popular, but de- 
lusive innovatiaDs upon the estabUsked system of education^ to which 
allusioa kas been made, the Wesleyan Univeittty is destined to imitate 
ito predeceasor neither in its. prematuse prosperity, nor te swift decKne. 



{ - . 



• I* 



^ American Bible Soeittif* 459 

Without any oMentatbus claims to superiority, it is silently but steadily 
winning its way into public, confidence, fixing its foundations for future 
usefulness slowly, but durably, and exhibiting in its annual pubtic 
examinations the firuits of excellent discipline, and a thorough system 
of instruction. Every department of science taught in other colleges 
is filled by able professors, who to the ordinary sense of responsibility 
superadd the ambition of giving an honorable name to their infant uni- 
versity. To these gentlemen it is but rendering a just tribute of praise, 
to remark with commendation the tone of manly sobriety which charac- 
terizes the manners of tbe^r pupils, and commands the respect and 
confidence of society. 

The religious denomination under whose immediate auspices this 
institution has been founded, having ev^r been remaricabl^ for energy 
and perseverance, not Jess than for their fervent piety, it is not unrea- 
sonable to expect that the same s^al which has planted the cross in the 
remotest confines of civili*zation, softened and subdued the wild and 
fierce manners of the farthest west, and illustrated every where, by the 
most shining examples, the Divine precepts of the Gospel, will not 
fail to distinguish itself by equal efforts in the cause of learning. Their 
simple habits and sound practical sense peculiarly adapt them to the 
purposes of republican education ; and with the support of its numerous 
friends, and its own meritorious titles to public patronage, the day can- 
not be distant when the Wesleyan University vaaai take rank with the 
first institutions of our country. 

These hasty reflections, gentlemen, which require so much of your 
indulgence, cannot be^ more appropriately concluded than by invoking 
for our now happy and beloved country the continuance of that Divine 
favor which has ever signally attended us ; which having saved Us from 
foreign oppresMon, can alone by the inspiration of wisdom and virtue 
save us from self-destruction. So far as human means can influence 
human fortunes, ours are emphatically in our own hands* With every 
variety of climate, soil, and production, remote from external enemies, 
and enjoying the protecting smiles of Heaven, what but our own folly 
can prevent the fulfilment of the highest destinies for which man has 
ever yet been reserved ! While we cultivate in our domestic policy a 
spirit of justice, moderation, and wise forbearance, may no hostile foes 
.disturb tiie repose of our eagle as he surveys the boundless scene of 
grandeur that bursts upon his view ; may he long behold the star-span- 
gled banner waving in peace from the frozen regions of the north to 
the glowing climes of the south, and prepare to wing his exulting flight 
from the rising to the setting sun. ' 



AMERICAN BIBLE SOCIETY, 

JNtneteenth Anntial Report of the American Bible Society. ' 

Wi: gladly avail ourselves of the privilege of submitting to our read« 
ers a condensed view of the doings of this society, during the nine- 
teenth year of its existence. At a time when every secret spring is 
set in action— every motive winch prompts to individual and social 
effort— every argument wfaidi can be addressed to tiie understandings 



460 Americtin Bible Sociehf. 

or passions of the people, are resorted to for the purpose of keeping op 
an excited action in the public mind, it is no less cheering than profita- 
ble to behold the charitable institutions of our country silently * pursu- 
ing the even tenor of their way,' shedding on all who come within the 
circle of their influence rays of light and heat, and conducting them 
onward in the paths of ' peace and pleasantness.' 

Though the political horizon be overspread with portentous clouds 
which seem to threaten us with a destructive storm — though there are 

* shakings and tremblings' in different parts of our republic, particularly 
in some of our large cities, — we trust the God of the Bible will over- 
rule these things for our good, and that those dense clouds, instead of 
pouring down the hail-stones of destruction, will yet ' distil as the dew 
upon the tender herb, and as the raia upoy the grass.' 

Antagonist principles are indeed, as they always have been, at work. 
£ach is emulous to obtain the preponderance. Which shall eventually 
prevail is known only to the God of Providence. We have reason 
however to believe,' from numerous declarations of the spirit of pro- 
phecy, that * righteousness shall yet cover the earth' — that idolatry shall 
be crumbled to the dust — that superstition shall be banished from 
among men — and that the * arm of Jehovah shall be made bare in the 
sight of all nations,' and that 

* JeiUB shall reign where'er the sun 
Does his^successive journeys ran.' 

Among other causes now in operation which are likely to contribute 
to the consummation of this grand prophetic period, the general circu- 
lation of the Holy Scriptures ' without note or comment,' is not the 
least. This is ' the sword of the Spirit.' And wherever the Spirit 
Himself is present to use His own sword, it shall dp execution. The 
Iwing ministry must be present to wield this Divine sword, with hearts 
billed with the * unction of the holy One,' and then both together shall 

* pull down the strong holds of Satan.' We are glad to find in the 
introduction of the report before us, such a distinct and mariced recog- 
nization of the Divine hand as is expressed in the following words : — 

^ «' In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths." 
This inspired counsel, so proper for individual observance, is no less 
worthy of regard by those who act in an associated capacity. The 
conductors of the American Bible Society perform a most obvious as 
well as cheerful duty, when they acknowledge a Divine hand in the 
origin of this institution, and ascribe to the same source all '•he success 
which has attended its subsequent operations. They and their prede- 
cessors have acted under the abiding impression, that ** except the 
Lord build the house, they labor in vain th^t build it." It was the kind 
providence of God which brought together Christians of different reli- 
gious nanies, and united them in this happy confederacy, and which 
has since preserved unbroken harmony among the managers, and 
among their fellow laborers throughout the land. The same overruling 



Jlmeriean Bibk Sociei^. 461 

ProTideiioe Inui raised up liberal contributors, prepared the way for Ae 
exteneive circulatioa of the Scriptures at home, and opened for their 
teception many entire nations, wnieh were wholly inaccessible to the 
Bible distributor when the Society was formed. In all this the mana- 
gers would distinctly recognise the agency of Him who inspired the 
sacred volume, and designed that it should be diffused among every 
people and tongue. They would at this time specially acknowledge 
•the kind providence which has been over the Society during the year 
now closed, and which has permitted them to meet so many of their 
respected brethren and fellow laborers on this anmversary occasion.* 

The following is the amount of the receipts during the year : — 

«Tn the course of the year there has been received into the treasury 
from all sources,' the sum of $100,806 26, being an increaseof $12,- 
206 44 over the receipts of the preceding year. 

Of these receipts there have been — 
In payment for Bibles and Testaments, - - $34,918 23 

From legacies, 3,877 26 

For distribution in foreign countries, - - - 31,821 02 

Unrestricted donations, 27,973 78 

Bible$ and TesiamenU ptinied. 

There have been printed in the course of the year, 

Bibles, - - . .... . - . 16,000 

Testaments, ..'.., 8,000 

Spanish Gospels, > - '. 10,000 

Who has not felt for oppressed Greece? Her meanings have 
come up before God, and we hope it may be saM in truth that * the set 
time has come to visit her^ in mercy. The Turkish' yoke has been 
broken; and though her ' young men have been slain in the streets,' 
and her maidens exposed to the rapacious destroyer of their inno- 
cence—end though a * foreigner rules over them,^ because of the op- 
pression of the many — ^yet we trust God has mercy in store for her 
children. Both the civil and Christian world have turned their atten- 
tion to this interesting portion of our race ; and who knows but the 
efforts which are put forth in their behalf may be crovmed with suc« 
cess ? British and American missionaries have visited their shores, 
and are now assiduously employed in watering their soil with the water 
of fife ; and the American Bible Society is lending its aid to scatter 
among them the ' bread which shall endure unto everlasting life.' The 
following is the account given of this laudable work : — 

Modem Greek Testaments 

* It was stated in ^e last report, that 1,305 copies of this book had 
been forwarded to the Rev. Messrs. King, Temple, Robertson; 
Brewer, and others, in Greece and vicinity. From all these gentle- 
men named, letters have been received, though neither of them had as 
yet given the work a thorough investigation. As the translation, how- 
ever, is familiar to readers in the Testaitients formerly distributed in 
that country by the British and Foreign Bible Socie^, and as your 
plates were read by competent modem wpek scholars, little doubt cui 

39* 



AM JImerkau BAle SpeUip 

b9 eatertaia«d that the book will prove a b|e»ung to maay readf fo 
perish. From, a very recenjt letter from the Rev. Mr. Brewer, at 
Smjrma, the following extract will show how the work was received in 
that quarter: — 

^ '« Agreeably to your intimations, I have received two boxes ef 
Greek Testaments, which I found to contain, (he one 231, the other 
200 copies — ^in all 431. A few dozens of these remain not disposed 
of, only because we are uncertain when our stock or Mr. Baker's de- 
pot will be replenished. With very few exceptions, these have been 
gratuitously distributed in the schools of Smyrna and its vicinity. In 
determining the proportions, I have acted chiefly in conjunction with 
the Rev. Mr. Jetter, of the British Church Missionary Society, who, 
as well as myself, has been especially devoted to the department of 
schools. FiiVy copies were sent to the school in the neighboring viU 
lage of Cookhijah, on the suggestion of Mr. King, and a few others 
have been given on the Tecommendatibn of Mr. Temple, with the offer 
of dividing die whole stock with him if he chose. Twenty copies have 
been sent to the schools in Magresia, forty to the schools of Mr. Jetter 
in the neighboring schools of Boujah. His and our schools in town, 
and six or seven others of the public schools have shared the remain- 
der, in different proportions, from ten to seventy ; and I can assure the 
friends of the Bible cause that it has been most refreshing within a 
few days past, on attending their annual examinations, to see the rows 
of these red-edged volumes intermingled with the brown and black 
borders of Testaments and Psalters, heretofore liberally presented by 
the agent of the British and Foreign' Bible Society." ' 

. The total number of copies of the Holy Scriptures issued the last 

year, including the entire Bible and parts of it» is 123,236, and the 

aggregate number since the formation of the Society in 181 6^ is 

1S767,736. 

. ' The blind shall see.' * Among other improvements of the age — 

while the deaf and dumb are taught to read and write, and to converse, 

an experiment has been made to enable the blind to read. The report 

gives the following facts :-^ 

JVet9 Te$tament for the Blind* 

' A short time before your last anniversary a donation of nearly two 
hundred dollars was received, contributed at a public meeting in Bos- 
ton, to aid in preparing the Scriptures for the b^ind. During the year 
now closed, the attention of your board has again been called to this 
subject by Samuel G. Howe, M. D., principal of the '^ New-England 
Society for the Education of the Blind." After having spent some 
time in England, France, and Germany, pursuing investigations ,con- 
nected with the humane object to which he is devoted, Dr. Howe has 
commenced the preparation of books with raised letters, which his 
pupils easily trace and comprehend by the touch. Numerous experi- 
ments have been made, and great pains taken to redui^e the Ifjtter to 
the smallest palpable form, as only one side of a sheet can deceive 
raised letters. Having determined as to the size and form of letters, 
having obtained a press suitable for this species of printing, this gentle- 
man, on behalf of the institution with whieh he is connected, and of 



r. 



Afiurtean Sibh Sociefy. 463 

more thun six thousand blind in the United States, has applied to your 
board for means to publish the New Testament. After satisfactoiy 
inquiries, the managers have granted one thousand dollars towards the 
accomplishment of this interesting object, and hare promised farther 
assistance during the coming jear. The entire expense of this Testa- 
ment will be about six dollars, and the contemplated edition of five 
hundred copies, three thousand dollars* To aid this publication, the 
Massachusetts Bible Society has contributed one thousand dollars, and 
the New-Tork Female Bible Society, with a characteristic liberality, 
has ventured to promise the sum of eight hundred dollars. It is ascer- 
tained, that after a season of practice, a blind pupil will read this raised 
letter with much facility. How great and unanticipated must be the 
blessing which tbis publication will bring to multitudes, shut out from 
th^ beauties of the material creation, and doomed to so many hours of 
mental soUtude. In the appendix will be found a communication of 
Dr. Howe, which will give additional information on the topic presented 
above.' 

It is a lamentable fact that wherever the Roman Catholic religion 
has obtained the predominancy, there the Holy Scriptures are denied 
the people in their vernacular language. Protestantism, in its reno- 
vating operations, enlightens the mind, by banishing the darkness of 
popery, and awakens a spirit of inquiry among all ranks and orders of 
the people. Though we cannot subscribe to the maxim that the * Bi- 
ble is the religion of Protestants,' yet we know that wheresoever the 
Bible is irtad^ understood, and its truths felt, by being applied to the 
heart through the energies of the Holy Spirit, there the religion which 
it prescribes as the remedy for the evils of our nature is enjoyed, its 
blessings duly appreciated, and all its holy fruits are seen growing and 
thriving to maturity. Though therefore the Bible is not religion itself, 
yet it describes what religion is, how and where it may be found, aad 
what must be done to disseminate it among mankind. Let then this 
bright lamp shine in all its Divine lustre — ^let its truths be understood 
and felt — its holy precepts experienced and practised, and the destruo- 
tive errors of popery shall disappear — civil and ecclesiastic^ despo- 
tism shall be prostrated — and the genqine principles of civil and 
religious liberty shall prevail and triumph. 

Who does not therefore rejoice at every successful effort to send the 
Bible into Roman Catholic countries ? South America, so long cursed 
with the blighting influence of Roknanism — so long torn to pieces with 
civil discord, as if the just retributions of Divine Providence were now 
visiting this land where the detested Cortes and his sanguinary asso- 
ciates inflicted such summary vengeance upon the defenceless natives 
— South America is receiving the word of life by the instrumentality 
of the American Bible Society. The following extract from the report 
will show what is doing in this benevolent enterprise in this interesting 
portion of our continent : — 



464 4mmemi BMe Somfj. 

^ Fiom Mr. Isaac Watts Wheelwright, the sociely'a agent for Spaa- 
ish America, several communications have been received in the course 
of the year. He reached the republic of Ghih in March, 1834, with 
about 2,000 copies of Bibles and Testaments, mostly in the Spamah 
longue. In the course of seven months be visited Suiti'ago, jthe capi- 
tal, Valparaiso, Conception, A.cooacgua, Quillota, Coquimbo, and 
many other of the larger towns, carrying with him a supply of books for 
each place. The civil officers, the common people generally, and a 
part of the priesthood were highly favorable to his benevdent object. 
■ One clergyman, a member of Cbe senate, expressed hm full conviction 
that the Bible ought to have an unrestricted circulation. The bishop 
of the diveen, however, summoning the agent before him, expressed 
his disapprobation of his labors, and requested him to desist from far- 
ther distributions. The consequence was, that two boxes of books 
. which had been left with a native agent for disposal, were received back 
to save them from the flames. In the south part of the nation less op- 
position was manifested, and a good number of books disposed of, many 
of them for the use of schools. The total distribution in that republic 
amounted to about twelve hundred copies. 

* The agent next visited Lima, the capital of Peru. Here he found 
less of direct oppositioti to his #ork. Indeed some of the clergy and 
others manifested a willingness to organize a Bible Society for the par- 
pose of circulating ,the Scriptures, a measure, however, which your 
agent did not, on the whole, think it wise to adopt. A lamentable 
apathy toward the Bible is found to prevail by the agent in all places 
which he visits, even where no opposition to him is found. Few place 
such a value on this blessed book as to be willing to purchase it, unless 
at a price greatly reduced, and many will not purchase on any terms. 
In the course of a two months' residence in Peru about 400 copies 
have been disposed of, a part of which went to interior villages. Your 
board have forwarded to the agent an additional number or Bibles and 
Testaments, and also copies of the Gospel of Matthew, There is 
reason to expect that for the latter there will be found a more exten- 
sive demand. As the agent appears to your board to be judicious, 
economical, and persevering, as he has now the language of the coun- 
try, a]id as the need of Bible influence is painfully obvious among the 
people where he labors, it seems desirable that his services should be 
prolonged another year, at least until a full experiment is made, whether 
the word of life is there to have free course or not. Your board 
cannot but indulge the hope that the more discerning of those countries 
will, ere long, see that the stabiUty of their civil institutions, as well as 
the growth of true religion, is never to be realized by them, nor by any 
people, unless based on a knowledge of Divine truth, widely diffused 
and deeply reverenced. 

* In addition to the books sent to Mr. Wheelwright, and to the newly 
formed auxiliaries in Texas, 500 of the Spanish G-ospels of Matthew 
have bsfen sent to the Hon. Joaquin Marquesa, of New-Grenada.*- 
Thia gentleman, it will be recollected, is a vice president of the Amer- 
ican Bible Society, and is now deeply interested in the establisnment 
of our new schools in his own country. Another grant of 500 Gospels 
has been made to a mercantile friend in the city of Mexico, for sale or 
distribution. Others, if required, are to be forwarded. Another grant 



y 

t 
I 



Jlmerican Bible 'Soeiety. 465 

of the same sumber has been made, under similar circumstances, to a 
gentleman residing i^ Havanna ; and others have been forwarded to 
Buenos Ajrtes.' 

Nor is the following account of the progress of the work among the 
Cherokees less cheering. It is an extract of a letter from the Rev. 
Cephas Washburn, a missionary among the Cherokees west of the 
Mississippi : — 

* If time would permit, I could communicate some facts of an inter- 
esting character, relative to the Bible cause. At present the following 
must suffice. The next Sabbath after our last Bible Society's meet« 
ing, I went out into a neighboring settlement, where I have a stated 
appointment to preach to the Cherokees. Most of my small auditory 
were members of the Bible Society, They had just received their 
books, and you might see eacli^ one furnished with a copy of Matthew, 
the Acts, and a hymn book, and each regarding these books as a most 
precious treasure. I was particularly interested with one full Cherokee 
woman. She had her Matthew, Acts, and Hymn book, very carefully 
wrapped in a new silk handkerchief. Before the exercises commen- 
ced, she would carefully unfold the handkerchief, read a verse or two 
in the book of life, then carefully fold up the books, and press them to 
her breast, while tears of gratitude for the invaluable treasure bedewed 
her sable cheeks. When the text, which was Matt, iv, lS-'22, was 
announced, all of them took their books and turned to the passage. 
Never did I address a more deeply interested company. Among them 
were several consistent professors of religion who are members of the 
mission Church. At the close of the exercises, sixteen otherS publicly 
expressed a determination to forsake all, and ** straightway" to follow 
Christ When I had mounted my horse to return home, the woman 
alluded to above came out and detained me. Her face was bathed 
with tears, but her eyes beamed with thankful joy. She said, " Have 
you made the paper (meaning this letter) to the society of good people 
in New- York, who are helping us to get the word of God 1" When I 
told her I had not, but should do so soon, she said, *' Do not forget to 
tell them that my heart is glad for the books I have obtained, and is 
full of love and thankfulness to them.'^ *' Tell them," said she, " I 
cannot speak how much we are| all glad and thankful, and we pray 
much for those good people every day." So you see, my dear brother, 
** the blessing of many who were ready to perish" is come upon your 
Society. This woman is an instance of the rich grace of God. Her 
first serious impressions were produced by reading the word of God in 
her own language. These impressions resulted, as we had the best 
reasons to hope, in her conversion to God, and she was three years 
since received into the mission Church. At the time of her conver- 
sion she was living in a state of widowhood. Subsequently she was 
married to one of the ctiiefs, who was much opposed to religion, and 
grossly intemperate. Her example and exhortations, joined to her 
prayefB, were the means of his hopeful Conversion, and of a revival of 
religion in the neighborhood, which resulted iip the conversion of thir- 
teen individuals. She is again a widow, is p^r, and is in very feeble 
health, but is rapidly growing in grace. She is one of the most faith- 
ful Cluistians in the Church. She lets no opportunity for benefiting 



466 Jimeriean Bible Sodehf, 

the floulfl of her people pass ummproved. When she goes to a neigh- 
bor's house, or when a risitor calls upon her, religion is almost her 
only subject of conversation, and every interview is closed with prayer, 
unless her visitors refuse, and in that case they are the subject of her 
earnest cries to God in secret* I attribute the prevailing attention to 
religion, in the neighborhood where she now resides, in a great measufe 
to her instrumentality. How grateful it is to put into such hands the 
word of life !' 

In the wide range of the society's operations, the land of the east is 
not forgotten. And among ' the signs of the times,' which indicate the 
speedy prostration of idolatry and the uprooting of the foundations of 
the mighty superstructure raised by the hands of the ' false pro{^et,' 
we cannot but notice the glimmerings of light which are tipping the 
mountains of Mohammedanism, illuminating the dark valleys of eastern 
pa^nism, and even penetrating the denser clouds which rest on the 
hills and dales of Judaism* When the feet of the missionary shall 
tread unmolestedly the countries which have been so long polluted by 
Jewish, pagan, and Mohammedan impostures and delusions, with the 
Holy Bible in his hand, and the Gospel trumpet to his mouth, giving 
no * uncertain sound,' we may hope the time is not far distant when 
these lands of desolation shall be cultivated, when these arid deserts 
shall become fruitful fields, and when their inhabitants shall be num- 
bered among the Israelites who ' worship God. in the spirit, and have 
no confidence in the flesh.' 

Thank God ! these -signs appear in the east. Along the hillff and 
Tftlleys of Palestine, where Jeremiah wept over the desolations of his 
country — ^where Isaiah sang so melodiously of the coming of Messiah, 
and His consequent victory over the Gentile nations — where this very 
Messiah appeared, preached, prayed, wrought miracles, suffered and 
died, and rose again — where Peter and Paul, and others of the chosen 
hand of apostles and disciples, once lifled up their voices in praise and 
prayer ;--even here^ amidst the • abominations which make desolate,' 
set up by the enemies of God and His Christ, are the missionaries of 
the * exalted Prince and Savior,' now proclaiming abroad ' the glad 
tidings of salvation,' — and here is the Bible also sent by the munifi- 
cence of American liberality. 

In difierent parts of the Ottoman empire, where the beast and the 
faUt prophet iiave so long held their undiminished sway, this same 
' witness for God is wending its way, and speaking in a voice of thunder 
in the ears of those deluded and lascivious people. 

* Within a few weeks,' says diis able report, < an interesting com- 
munication has been received from the Kev. William G. ^hauf- 
fler, missionary of the American Board for Foreign Missions among 
the Jews at Constantinople, and countries around it 

' ** The object of this communication," says the writer, <^ is to make 
you acquainted, as fiur as I am able, with tiie state of ike JemMh.popv^ 



1 



American Bible Soeieiy. 467 

laHonin Ae OHoman empire, from that particular point of view which 
renders them' an object of the Christian charity of your society, and 
then to propose the publivation of the sacred Scriptures of the Old Tes' 
tament in the Hebrew and Hebrew^ Spanish languages, to supply the 
perishing wants of these thousands and tens of thousands of immortal 
souls, all of them still heirs of many a glorious Divine promise, and 
members of a nation whose universal conversion is so evidently and so 
intimately connected with the coming of that promised happy period, 
when all shall know the Lord. 

' ** Who will beforehand prescribe limits to the effects and conse- 
quences bf the work of putting the whole Old Testament, intelligibly 
trslnslated, into the hands of probably some 300,000 souls to read, or 
to hear it daily ; a work to the execution of which no hand, nor foot, 
nor finger ever has been moved throughout vast Christendom down to 
this present day, although these people have lived and perished before 
our very threshold ! 

' " But, dear sir, I have not felt satisfied with merely proposing, I 
have already put my hand to the work. I have begun to revise, in the 
manner above mentioned, the !^salms in ps^rticular, to publish them 
apart in a smaller form. As soon as this revision is completed, I shall. 
Providence permitting, print an edition of 3,000 copies, confidently 
hoping the * God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, Vwho has decla- 
red ' the silver is mine, and the gold is mine,' will provide for the ex- 
penses, by moving the hearts of his people in Christian lands, and, may 
I not say, by moving your hearts ? 

* '* The reasons which have moved me to a publication of the Psalms 
are the following, viz. It is, in the first place, the book which the 
Jews ^most desire to possess, and to understand. 2d. It is peculiarly 
devotional, and pre-eminently calculated to prepare their hearts for a 
favorable reception of the whole of the Old Testament. 3d. It will 
probably excite less opposition or anxiety on the part of the rabbis 
than any other book not historical, 4th. We shall see, by this small 
attempt, what is the probability of success in the publication of the 
whole Old Testament. StL Our precious time is thus improved in 
some way, and something is doing for the poor Israelites^ And, my 
dear sir, I am really unable to fear that Christians in America would 
forsake me in an enterprise so evidently called for, so limited, and so 
promising at the same time. 

> «< I deem it a matter of gratitude to the good providence of God 
upon us, that we can print editions of the Old Testament here. This 
advantage, which the Bible Society may enjoy freely, does not extend 
to the publication of tracts. For as tracts against the Jews must be 
more or less polemical, and as the laborers who set up the Hebrew 
type in the printing ofBce» are Jews, they will obviously lend no hand 
to us in combating their cherished infidelity ; while, according to the 
positive opinion, both of Arab Ogloo, the Armenian printer, and Mr. 
Castro, the Jewish printer, there will be no difficulty in procinring their 
labors in the edition of an Old Testament ; and so confident are they 
that their uien will not forsake them, not even at the threats of the 
rabbis, that they are willing to take the whole responsibility of that 
part upon themselves, and expect no pay until the work is carried 
throii^ the pre9S« But I . must close tUi long communication* Let 



468 Ammcan BiUe SocUiy* 

me only ndd, that if yonr SocietT conclude upon the publication of the, (Hi 7e«ta« 
tnent, lea* than 6000 copies should not be printed, if the|e is any prospect of suc- 
cess. In fact, that can only be a beginning in the great work of supplying with 
the sacred Scriptures of the Old Testament up to 50 or 60,000 families.** * 

'A letter dated at Constantinople, in September last, from the Rev. Mr. Dwight, 
missionary, informs your board that a translation of the booh of Psalms pte mo- 
dem Armenian had been made under his direction, and would soon be ready for 
the press. He contemplates printing first an edition of 1,500 copies. When your 
board hare suitable evidence that the work is correctly translated, they will have 
great satisfaction in furnishing tho means requisite to publish such editions as 
may be required. The following extract from Mr. Dwighty letter will be read 
with interest :— • 

* ** M any of the people around at are not able to read, and of course not prepared 
to receive the Bible into their houses. Many,lnevertheless, do read, and it is as- 
tonishing to see the power of Scripture truth upon the conscience, when it comes 
to them from the pure fountain itself, without note or comment, and without the 
aid of a living teacher. I could-point to two young men of the Armenian nation, 
for whom we have the hope that they have become true disciples of Christ, whose 
minds were first opened by the simple reading of the Scriptures, before they knew 
even that there was a missionary in the whole world. Nay, I could point you to 
many more of the same nation here, upon whom the word of God has had prodi. 
gious power^-a few passages sweeping away at once a whole catalogue of errors 
which they had never, before reading the Bible, supposed to be any thing else but 
precious truths. Nor, among the Armenians of this vicinity, is there the least 
opposition to the circulation and reading ef the Scriptures. There was indeed a 
case lately — the first I have heard of the kind — and spoken of by the Armenians 
themselves as new and strange. A young man, the son of a priest, began to read 
the New Testament, and became so interested, that whenever he was at home 
that book wai< never out of his hands. He is engaged in the mercantile business, 
and being occupied through the day, devoted his evenings at home to hie favorite 
reading. The old priest, his father, became alarmed — so strange was it that a 
young man should have such a relish for reading the Scriptures — and tried to 
prevail on him to devote his time to something else. Being unsuccessful, he at 
length took the Testament by force and locked it up. The matter, however, had 
taken too deep hold of the young man, and he soon purchased another one ; and 
the priest finding him incerrigibfe, has at length yielded the point, and gives him 
no farther molestation. The son calls at my house every day, and is an interest- 
ing and hopeful inquirer after the truth.** * 

* To, the Western Foreign Missionary Society at Pittsburg, Fa. , there has bees 
made a grant of $500, to be expended by their missionaries, Messrs. Lowrie, 
Reed, Wilson, and Newton, in circulating the Scriptures in Northern ladia.— 
This mission is to be established among the Seik nation, in the province of La- 
hore, in the northwestern part of Hindostan. These missionaries pass through 
Calcutta, where, it is said, they can obtain the Scriptures used by the JBeik nation, 
and by other people to be met on the way thither. Your board are happy in ma- 
hing this appropriation ; not only because the object aimed at is important, bat 
because the friends of the Bible in Pittsburg have contributed liberally to your 
funds for this specific object. Every new channel opened for the difiusion of the 
Bible should call for^ fervent gratitude from every heart which appreciates that 
blessed booky and sees the universal wretchedness of those who are without its- 
instructions. 

* Two letters have been received, in the' course of the year, from the American 
missionaries at Cejrlon, asking for printing paper, or for means to procure it, for 
the purpose of publishing the Tamul Scriptures. One of these letters was aecom^ 
panted by the last report of the Jaffna Bible Society^ Ceylofi, from which we 
make the -following extract .* — 

* '* There are probably between four and five thousand children under Christian 
instruction in the schools of the different missionary establishments in the dis- 
trict, a good proportion of whom are able to read. It is evidently of the first im- 
portance that these schools should be furnished with a supply of Gospels, not only 
for the purpose of training thfl| children to read the printed character, but more 
espeoiaUy to imbue uieir tender minds with Seriptural truth, with the hope that, by 
the Divine blessing, they may thus be preserved from the pernicious and contami- 
nating infinenee whmUn^mMm, under which mosi 'of the ndak pcf utetien is so 



Jlmeriean Bible Society, 469 

powetfttlly held. To rapply each school with ten boo^Sf which cannot be con- 
sidered a large namber, woald probably require more than a thousand copies ; 
and these, -if constantly in use, as it is desirable they should be, generally require 
to be renewed at least once a year ; the habits of native children, even with the 
most vigilant superintendence, being such as to injure books much faster than in 
common English schools. 

* " The committee are also anxious to furnish each youth, en leaving school, 
with a Gospel, or some other part of holy writ, so that they may possess a book 
fur which, from the instruction they have received, they may be supposed to have 
some regard, and which they may, it is hoped, read at their leisure, and thus 
maintain and increase the knowledge they may have acquired of Scripture truth. 

* '* The attention of the committee has frequently been directed to the numbers 
who, w ithin the past fifteen years have received Christian instruction in these 
little seminaries, the mission schools. They are now coming forward to act their 
part on the stage of -life, have more or less knowledge of Divine truth, and are 
prepared, to some extent, to understand the Scriptures. To many of them, it 
may be hoped, a copy of the whole, or even a part of the sacred volume, would 
prove an acceptable and valuable present.** A quotation is alse made from 
another communication of the committee, expressive of their earnest wish to ob. 
tain more books for general circulation. ** It has,'* they state, " b«en a subject 
of regret, that they had not at their disposal copies of the Bible, to make a more 
liberal distribution, especially among such persons as, by means of the various 
Missionary and Tract Society operations carrying forward in the district, are 
more or less acquainted with Divine truth, and with their obligations to embrace 
it.»» 

* ''The committee regret that in a field where the demand for Scripture is so 
great, the resources for obtaining funds in aid of thd cante are so disproportion, 
ate. The annual amount realized by the society is altogether inadequate to meet 
the expense that must be incurred, if the wants of the district are to be satis, 
fied.** * 

* In view of the above letters and statements, together with a request from the 
American board of missions, a grant of $6000 has this year been furnished toward 
printing and circulating the Scriptures in Ceylon. 

' For the circulation of the Scriptures among the Baptist missions in the Bur. 
man empire a grant of $7000 has this year been made. The following extraot 
from a letter by the Secretary 6f the Baptist board of missions, will show the pro. 
priety of this grant ; — 

' ^' We are urging forward the publication of the Scriptures in Burmah with all. 
the means in our power. In the ship Cashmere, which left this port the 2d inst. 
for Amh rst and Maulmein, a fourth printer took passage, with nearly two thou. 
sapd reams of paper and a great amount of other materials for the press and 
bindery, under his charge. At the last intelligence, beside an edition of the New 
Testament entire, which was mostly put in circulation, ten thousand copies of 
Luke and John stitched together, and ten thousand copies of a Digest of Scrip, 
ture, by the late Mr. Boardman, had issued from the press. The Old Testament 
is now doubtless in a course of publication. The 6th of September last the Psalms 
were commenced, and as far as the 24th printed off. 

*■ *'*' We have it in contemplation to send out a fifth press, which may, in fact, 
be considered as already engaged. The heavy expenditures which these trans, 
actions necessarily involve exhaust our treasury fast, and will render highly ac. 
eeptable whatever remittances it may be convenient for your Society to make. 
The decision and enterprise manifested by them, and aacompaniod by the noble 
resolution in contemplation, to give the Bible to the whole world, have eocou. 
raged ns to look to their co.ope>ation for ii^ost of the means by which the sacred 
Scriptures shall be given to the perishing millions of Burmah ; and the more they 
authorize us to expect, the more facilities shall we employ to hasten on the ac- 
complishment of the vast and benevolent design.'* 

* The following extract fi-om the journal of the Rev. Mr. Bennett, at Rangoon, 
October 14, shows that a spirit of inquii^ is awake, in relation to Divine truths 
although the fear of persecution restrains many f^om disclosi]|g their feelings 
and wuhes. Opposition, it seems, is made by the jealows Budhiste, who see that 
their system is' m danger. Says Mr. Bennett,-r 

* *' The Pahgan inquirer, Ko Lonff* has been here most of th^ day, deeiring to 
knew more of the ttnth. I gave liim a New Testament, which I fny he may 

Vol. TL— Oc<o6«r, 1835. 40 



476 American Bible Society, 

be enabled to peruBe with profit. The man from ATa, (mentioned AprU 3(y baa 
come down again, and called to.day. He aaya he gave to one of the kins** 
brothers a book be obtained here ; who aaidi he had one much like it, which ha 
had hail for two yea:s, which he had read, and liked, and wished this man to pro- 
cure him a Testament when he came down to Rangoon. I shall with much 
pleasure fhrnish him with not only a Testament, but our other books. He en. 
joined vn this man, however, strict secrecy, and that he must not let any one 
know he had our books. Several of the followers of this man wished books, 
which I gave them. This man, and several of his followers, seem very favorable 
to the truth, but ihe fear of persecution prevents them from openly avowing it." 

* From China your Board have been favored with several communications in 
the course of the year, parts of which will be subjoined. Soon after your last 
anniversary a letter was received from the Rev.- E. C. Bridgman, missionary at 
Canton, in which he writes : — " 

*■ '* I made some general statements in a former letter in regard to the extent 
of the field which is here to be supplied with the Holy Scriptures. Since that 
time changes have taken place, new openings have been made for the circulation 
of books, and a better feeling is rising up with respect to this great work, among 
Christians. Your own inquiries, and those of Mr. Anderson and others, make it 
my duty to write to you again. 

^ " It is impossible for those who have not given particular attention to the 
situation and character of these eastern nations, to believe that the Chinese em- 
pire alone contains 360,000,000 of human beings ; or that those who can read 
th(* Scriptures in the Chinese language constitute more than one third part of 
our race. 

* ** For the present the principal part of your grant to this mission will be em- 
ployed in procuring printing of the Chinese Bible at Malacca. In the meantime, 
it will probably be best to have some of the separate books published in Canton. 
The work can be done here with great facility and cheapness. 

* " In regard to the circulation of the Scriptures I cannot apeak definitely. — 
Many copies will be needed for immediate circulation ; and should a missionary 
ship bo sent out to visit the coast and the Chinese settlements, (and it is very de- 
sirable that there should be,) many thousand copies will at once be required, and 
eventually, perhaps very soon, many millions. 

* ** In my best moments, at those times, I mean when I have the clearest views 
ef eternal things, it seems to me that the time has come when the Gospel of our 
Lord shall be published through all the length and breadth of this land, and tri- 
umph over and destroy all its vain superstitions. The same opinion isxherisbed 
by others, as you will see by the accompanying epistle firom our brother beloved, 
the evangelist Leang Afa.*' 

* The individual above referred to has for many years given evidence of having 
embraced the Christian faith with sincerity. Soon after his conversion he pre- 
pared blocks, and printed from them small books from the Scriptures, for the 
benefit of his countrymen. By so doing he incurred the displeasure of the gov- 
ernment, was arrested, severely punished with the greater bambop, and then set 
at liberty. " I dared not,** says he, ** on account of this suffering, to forget the 
mercy of our Savior in becoming our ransom. But regarding it a ^lory to suf- 
fer shame for our Lord, I examined more closely the sins of my life, and strove 
with greater perseverance to live according to the rules of the Gospel." He 
went to the Anglo-Chinete college at Malacca, where he had the instructions of 
Dr. Milne until the death of that excellent missionary. 

* ** Having then,** he adds, "no one on whom to depend, I returned to Macao, 
and resided in the house of Dr. Morrison, and for some years studied the Gos- 
pel ; and by his ' kind instruction I gradually increased in learning and in the 
knowledge of the plan of redemption. Then taking the principles of the Gos- 
pel, I admonished and instructed my fellow-countrymen. But for a time none 
believed and obeyed the doctrines of our Lord ; recently however. He has gra- 
ciously touched the hearts of some ; and now there are among my kindred and 
friend more than ten persons who believe in and adore the Savior, and live ac> 
cording to the precepts of the Gospel. On every Sabbath day these believers 
aseemlSe at my house to worship the Supreme Loni ; they listen to my preach- 
ing, and most joyfully obey and do the will of God. Wherever I preach or ex- 
hort, I take these books and distribute them. And this vear at the Utenuxexam- 
inatioM In Canton, I dlstribated thMn UBong the Utarati, who rtceived tfcMa with 



American Bibk Society. 471 

I 

|rr«al j<^ and gkdneis. Of both these kinds of books I have distributed all I 
hare. And now the seed of the Oospel has fallen into the hearts of great nam-' 
bers, and it becomes our chief dnty to pray to our heavenly Father that He will 
■send down the H«ly Spirit to cause it to spring up and grow, and bring forth the. 
fruits of faith and righteousness unto eternal life. 

* '* For several years I have been engaged either in preaching the Gospel or in 
distributing tracts ; and our Lord anil Savior has graciously vouchsafed His grace 
to protect and to cause me to enjoy peace and tranquillity of mind. I think this 
is the tune when our heavenly Father will allow us to circulate His holy word 
in order that thd souls of the Chinese may be saved. Thei;;efore I write this epis. 
tie and send it to your honorable country, to request the Bible Society, which is 
composed of warm-hearted and faithful believers, that they will extend wide their 
benevolence, love their neighbors as themselves, and devise means to aid in 
printing complete copies of the Bible, and thereby enable me to circulate them 
among my countrymen, and cause them to know the special grace of our heavenly 
Father." 

* From the Rev. Charles Gutzlaff, the indefatigable missionary in China, two 
letters have been received in the course of the year. In the first he writes, — 

* "I was greatly rejoiced in hearing that you had taken so active a part in the 
work of God in China ; the sphere for your operations is surely immense. As 
much as it is in my little power, I shall endeavor to spread the precious word of 
life, and to make known the saving doctrines of the GospeL 

* " You will have heard what resolutions have been taken in regard of bestow, 
ing your funds from Mr. Bridgman. 

* ** I should take the liberty of suggesting to you several measures for forward, 
ing the gpreat work in China, but I wish first to act and then to talk. However, 
you may rest assured that we will drain your funds, for we have a large nation 
before us, and if only the hundredth Chinainan was to get a Bible from you, a 
ten years* income would not be sufficient to defray the expenses. 

* ** I am now again proceeding to Fokien or Chekeong; you will have in me 
a faithful correspondent as long as you answer my letters, and I shall endeavor 
to give you as distinct a statement about the sphere into which you are about to 
enter, and the language, as far as it regards -Scripture translation, in which you 
wish to glorify the Redeemer, as my feeble capacities will admit. 

* '* Pray that the Lord may open a great and effectual door. I desire ardently 
that not only the maritime provinces, but also Gan.hwuy, Hoo-pih, lae-chiien, 
and Yun-nan, yea, the whole empire, might see the glory of the Lord." 

* In a more recent letter, dated on the 20th of Dec. last, at Macao, (he writes :-^ 

* '* I inform you with the greatest pleasure, that all the parts of Scripture which 
were sent to my care were distributed to eager readers at Formosa and in Fokien. 
A total revision of the whole Chinese Scripture is a matter of urgent necessity, 
and we have therefore set to work to furnish a new edition, in order to answer 
the wants of the {/eople. Every care and attention will be bestowed uponthis 
important undertaking. Lest, however, a delay in disposing of the whole num- 
ber miffht occur, we are anxious to arrange an expedition along the whole coast, 
from Haenan to Kiren, an enterprise which oaght no longer to be postponed. 

* " If you are willing to supply the demands of China, you will enter upon aa 
immense work. If our missionaries push on boldly, in the strength of the Lord, 
and constantly travel from one province to the other, the widest circulation of' 
the sacred writ may be anticipated. Only let us not be satisfied with partial suc- 
cess, not slumber as soon as the word of God is printed. The day of small things 
is past, and it behoves us now to Venture all upon.the Lord. You can form no 
idea of the grand sphere upon which you are going to enter ; and if our mission- 
aries only keep pace with the zeal and prayers of the people at home, a great and 
effectual work will be done, under the Divine blessing. 

* *' You have said nothing about the Indo-Chinese translation, viz. the Siam- 
ese, Cambodian, and Laos, for the printing of which the Dutch Bible Society hat 
advanced 9^00. I have, in the meanwhile, given the whole up to Mr. Robinson, 
and .trust he will expedite the work with care. 

* ** I am very desirous to see at least a few chapters ready for the press ere I 
leave this, and some parts engraved. As there are more laborers forthcoming, 
and all are anxious to co-operate in the great work, you must be prepared for 
heavy demands.- Yet we trust to our God, uiat while doors are opened, the meana 
vill alao be rappliMl for eanying on the Uasied work.** 



472 ; .American Bible Society, 

' In another eommanication to one of the managers of the 'aociety, Mr. Chits- 
laff ezpreaaes ^^ desire that distribution of books may be undertaken on .a miicla 
more extensive scale than hw yet been attempted. 

* ** Aa longf" says he, ** as oar relations remain the same ail at present, a Tes. 
sel laden with a gnai number of bo^ks, say one million of volumes, ougrht toper- 
form an annual voyage from Haenan to Kiseri. As Dr. Parker has come out for 
the express purpose of settling in one of the provinces, he might serve his ap. 
prenticeship in the expedition.** 

* It must be strikingly evident to all who have noticed the finger ^f Prc^idence, 
in relation to China, Uie'last few years, that great changes are about to take place 
In that populous empire. The eyes of the civilised statesman, of the merchant, 
and of the Ghristian, are all turned toward her, and the voice of the whole united 
world cries for the deliverance of her millions irom oppression and ignorance. — 
)t can hi^rdly be presumed that another ten years can pass before wide alterations 
are made in her diplomatic and commercial intercourse with other nations. Nor 
can this period pass before the soldiers of the cross, now gathering on her bor- 
ders, and mastering her complicated tongue, will penetrate the interior of her 
cities and provinces, and proclaim the news of tin Grospel in the ears of thou- 
sands. 

* It is a circumstance of peculiar interest to this society, in looking at the anti- 
cipated changes referred to, that the Chinese are so extensively a reading people, 
and are eager to obtain books. How much more hopeless their condition, were 
they as untaught as the scattered tribes of Africa and America. How much 
mpre difficult the task of enlightening so many millions, were they strangers to 
the mechanical process of preparing paper, and to the art of printing. But such 
are the arrangements of Providence, th9.t, in almost every, part of that empire, 
books can be manufactured at a modeiftte expense and to an unlimited extent. 
Let the door but open to admit the merehant, an event which cannot be long de: 
layed, and how rapidly would the knowledge of Christianity be diffused by the 
pMss, even should the living missionary be for a time excluded. How rapidly 
might copies of the Scriptures be multiplied by native hands, and furnished to 
such as would at once peruse them ; and thus many be led, like the awakened 
Ethiopian, to desire some Philip to come and teach them to understand what they 
read. The utility of the Bible to China is ingeniously as well as truly repre- 
sented by the Rev. Mr. Abeel, before the British and Foreign Bible Society at its 
l^ast anniversary. Mr. Abeel observed, that 

* " He knew but one missionanr in whom he eould place complete confidence 
That missionary he had met in Cfhina; he was instructed in languages, and dili- 
gent in exertion ; he had made voyages from island to island ; he had gone forth 
unaided and alone ; he had entered villages and hamlets ; he had dared to enter 
the palace of him who was called * the Son of Heaven,* and had ventured to tell 
him of the true way to heaven. That missionary had done the speaker the honor 
to be his companion, and such another companion he never expected to find. — 
Where he could not go, that missionary went ; what he eould not do, that mis- 
sionary did. He had never left him. In entering regions which had no teacher, 
he was still his companion. He went among all classes — ^he abode with him for 
weeks at a time, he animated all his exertions ; and what was most remarkable, 
with all his powers, with all his elevation of soul, he became his servant. He 
entered even the junks, add taught the mariners. He went on, and entered Chi- 
na itself. Surely the audience would all desire to know who he was. He wouki 
tell them who he was not; he was not a Churchman, nor a Dissenter — ^he was 
not aCalvinist, nor an Arminian — he was not an American, nor an Englishman, 
nor a Scotchman, nor a Hollander. He appeared to hate all sects, and many of 
those who were the most prominent he had never even mentioned. That mission- 
ary was THK Bible.** * 

Through the agency of this and the British and Foreign Bible Society, tks 
holy Scriptures, either in whole or in part, have been translated into one hundred 
and fifty.eight languages and dialects. 

It is known to most of our readers, that in the year 1828 the BiUe Society of 
the Methodist Episcopal Church was formed by the advice of our General Con. 
ierence. We were led' to this measure chiefly to supp]|y our numerous Sunday 
schools with the holy Scriptures on the cheapest terms, and the poorer classea of 



* 



American Bible Society, ' 473 

omr pftm congpregi^tionB, and also oar Indian miMlonB. Though Aaeh^has been 
d<Md considering the means at our eomDiand, partiiaiarly in furnishing transla. 
tions of portions qf the New Testament in the Mohawk language, and^he sup.- 
plying our Sabbath schools with Bibles and Testaments, yettiie general efficiency 
of the Society, became doubtiul, as it tended to divide the attention of eur people 
between it and the American Bible Society, and thereby in a great measure to 
paralyzq^their efforts. On this account some of the zealous friendtfidf the caute 
coinaidered it their duty to make an effort to amalgamate ^e two societies, that, 
' Judah might no longer vex Ephraim, nor Ephraim vex Judah.* This gaw rifts 
to the following correspondence, reports, and resolutions, which are published in 
the report, and that they may be reserTod for future reference, in case of need, we 
republish them as the conclusion of our extracts : — 

* Baltimore, July 10, 1834. 
' Tlie conipnittee to whom was referred the preamble and resolutions submitted 
to the board at its last meeting by tjhe Rev. M. Easter, respectfully report : — 

* That they have had the subject under conitderation, and as the result of their 
deliberations, unanimously recommended the adoption of the following resolu- 
tions : — 

* 1. Resolved, That a copy of the communications herewith enclosed be for. 
warded to the editors of the " Christian Advocate and Journal," at New.York, 
signed by a select number of ministers and influential laymen of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church in this city. 

* 2. Resolved, That the Corresponding Secretary be instructed to address the 
AmeriQ^n Bible Society, informing them of the anxious desire of this society to 
effect a union l^tween the Bible Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church and 
our great National Institution, and of the effort we are making to enlist the aid 
of that influential branch of the Christian Church iuvthis state ; requesting to 
know the sentiments of the American Bible Society on the subject. 

* All which is respectfully submitted. 
(Signed) Samukl Baker, Chairman. 

John Coleman, Secretary. 

* At a meeting of the board of managers of the Maryland State BiUe Society, 
held JuIt 17, 1834, 

* Resolved, That the corresponding secretary be instructed to address the Amer. 
ican Bible Society, informing them of the anxious desire of this society to effect 
» union of the Bible Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church with oar great 
National Institution, and of the effort we are making to enlist the aid of that 
influential branch of the Christian Church in this state ; requesting to know the 
sentiment of the American Bible Society on the subject. 

Extracted from the minutes. 

EusHA N. BaowNE, Cor. See. of the Jdar. Bib, Soc. 

* To the Editors of the Christian Advocate and Journal. 

* Dear BaETHREN, — ^The undersigned, ministers and members of the Metho- 
dist Episcopal Church in the city of Baltimore, beg leave to address you on a 
subject of no ordinary importance to the cause of God in general, or to us in 
particular as Methodists. A Bible convention was he.ld in this city in Hay, 1833, 
composed of delegates from many parts of the state, to devise the means of ex. 
ploring the state, and supplying with the word of truth such as should be found 
destitute of the sacred volume. A Bible Society was organized by the convention, 
which has since been occupied in raising auxiliaries in &e counties, with branches 
in the several election districts, to awaken and ta perpetuate the proper interest 
on this deeply interesting subject. In the jHroseoution of this holy effort, it 
would appear to be obviously the duty of the Methodists to co-operate, as none 
can be more concerned in distributing that .holy volume which has God for its 
author, salvation for its end, and ** truth without any mixture of error for its 
matter." Yet our ef&etual cooperation is greatly embarrassed by what we pre- 
sume to be the same misunderstanding of the attitude which has been aasopied 
by our Church in regard to this subject. It is believed by many that the fimna. 
tion of a separate Bible Society by the Methodist Episecnal Church, to the 
purpose of acting independently of the American Bible Socieltj, whei» a suits- 



• « 



m 

474 Ameriemt Bible Soeieh/, 

% 

ble field of li^r may present haelf, forbide ni to unite with the State BttU 5#- 
tietf in a work which we omnot do oarwlvee, and which, neyertheleei, cannot 
be done wHhout as. 

'Yoa are probably aware of the extensive influence whfch the Methodists 
possess in this state, and consequently of the high responsibility which rests 
upon them to use this influence to the g\^ of God. It is generally believed 
here, that without the cordial co-operation of our ministry and membership, the 
ttflfortft of the Maryland State Bible Society will proye abortive, and who then 
shall roll Chis reproach from our door, and above all, how shall we answer it to 
God! 

* Can you not help us to reprove the misapprehensions under which some of 
our preachers and many of our members labor ; for we are assured that it is a 
misapprehension, from the resolutions passed both by our own and the Virginia 
annual conference, in favor of a similar effort of the Virginia State Bible Society. 
The Advocate is considered as the orgaa of the Church, and if our friends were 
earnestly exhorted through its columns to come up in this mattter to the help 
of the Lord, we are persuaded they would no longer hesitate, because they 
would no longer consider their exertions in the proposed movement as an act 
of hostility to the "institutions of their own Church — an assurance which ant 
no otherwise be given until the ensuing session of the Baltimore annual con- 
ference. 

* Most earnestly soliciting your aid in this matter, we are yours in the fellowship 
of Christ. 

Gkokoe G. Cookmaw, W. Hamilton, 

James Sbwbll, Thomas C. TnoairroN, 

G. C. M. Roberts, Francis Macartney, 

T. P. Keuo, Samuel Baki r, r 

Christian Keener* Fielder Israel, 

Thomas E. BoNi>y James Brundige. 
R. G. Armstrong, 
Bmltimore, September^ 1S34. 



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* American Bible Sooiett Hovsk, 

Jfew-York, September 18, 1834. 

* At a meeting this morning of the committee appointed by the managers of 
the American Bible Society, to consider the subject communicated in a letter 
from the Maryland Bible Society, relating to a union of the American Bible So. 
ciety and the Methodist Episcopal Bible Soeiety, the following resolution was 
adopted : — 

^^ * Resolvedf That Dr. James L. Phelps, George Suckley, and l^rancis Hall, Esq., 
(managers of the American Bible Society,) be furnished with a copy of the 
above named letter, and that they be requested respectfully to present the same 
to the officers of the " Methodisl Episcopal Bible Society," and the editors of 
the '* Journal and Advocate," and after due conference with those gentlemen 
respecting this letter, to inform the committee, so far as may be deemed proper, 
as to the result of said conference. In behalf of the commitSde, 

J. C. Brigham, Cor. Sec^y. 

* Those documents haying been submitted to the managers of the Bible and 
Tract Society and Sunday School Union of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
they, appointed a committee to consider and report thereon ; and on the eleventh 
instant the following report was presented at an extra meeting, of the board, 
which was concurrcMl in, and a copy has been sent as directed to the mana- 
gers of the American Bible Society, and also to the Maryland State Bible 
Society. 

* The committee to whom was referred the communication of the Maryland 
State Bible Society to the American Bible Society, and the resolution of the 
board of managers of the latter iofltiiution, respectrally report : — 

* That the Bible Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church was organised, 
and is perpetuated on the recommendation of the General Conference, and that 
no cardinal alteration in its constitution is expedient, until such alteration be 
eommttnicated to that body at its next session in 1836, even if suoh coarse were 
desirable, which, in the present case, they are happy in believing is not the fiiot. 

* The Bpecifle object contemplated by the formation of our ioeiety and its anx- 



& 



Jimericam Bibk Society, 475 

iliarieB, was the adequate savplj of the wants of^ our numeroas Sanday schools, 
for ii^ich there Was no provision by any of the branchei^f the .^^Berican Bible 
Society. This object is still of vast importance, an4 eallp for much more of ex. 
ertion and liberaUty than it has as yet received, especially in some of the con« 
ferences. It is, therefore, incompatibly with our duty and interests, either to 
dissolve our society, or assume an auxiliary relation to the American Bible 
Society. ♦ 

* Toward that noble and popular tns^tution, however, we can liave no other 
fseling than veneration and respect ; and in proof of this, if it were necessary, 
we mi^ht appeal to the fact, that several of our board are also acting manager* 
of the national society, and find no incompatibility in their double relation. That 
great 'institution has deservedly acquired the confidence of the Christian public 
for their enterprise and usefulness, which is above all praise. And the Maryland 
State Society is one of their most efficient and successful auxiliaries, in which 
we have always rejoiced to hear that very many respectable ministers and mem. 
hers of our Church in Baltimore and «liewhere have been actively and zealously 
useful. And wo unite with them in the expression of regret, that from any 
misapprehension the Methodist Episcopal Church in Maryland should hesitate 
in aiding the state society in their laudable exertions to supply every destitute 
family in their limits with a copy of tho Bible, or should seem to be idle or 
indifferent in this cause. While we should rejoice in the multiplication of our 
own auxiliari^ in that state, yet as we have thus far been denied this pleasure, 
we shall be perfectly satisfied if our brethren there, and in any state similarly 
situated, shall organize Bible societies auxiliary to the state and American soci. 
eties, sinee both are engaged in the common cause of circulating the Bible 
*' without note or comment." On this broad and catholic ground " we be 
brethren," and there need be no strife, and in the present case there can be no 
compAtion. • 

* With the view of meeting the present case, and any subsequent one of 
similar character, your committee recommend the adoption of the following 
resolutions, which they hope will remove any future misapprehensions on this 
subject, viz. — 

* 1. liesolvedf That it is not expedient before the next session of the General 
Conference, either to dissolve this society or essentially modify its constitution. 

* 2. Resolvp.d, That as the American Bible Society has the full confidence and 
Christian affection of this board, wq disclaim any design to oppose and hinder in 
the least the useful operations of that institution or any of its auxiliaries, and 
should sincerely deprecate such result. 

' 3. Resoivedf That the Maryhind State Bible Society, being engaged in the 
praiseworthy effort to supply the destitute within their borders, and being con. 
ducted by a board of managers in whose integrity and piety we fully confide, 
is worthy of the patronage and liberality of the Christian public, and we 
affectionately commend it to the prayers and contributions of our brethren in 
thftt state. 

' 4. Resolvedt That the duty of promoting the circulation of the holy Scrip, 
tures is obligatory on all the mends of Christ, and we earnestly exhort our bre. 
thren to form Btte societies in every station and circuit throughout the land ; and 
although we should prefer that they become auxiliary to our board, yet if any of 
them should see cause not to attach themselves to us, and discover that they can 
be more useful by uniting with state societies, or with the American Bible Society, 
they have our entire and hearty concurrence. 

* 5. Resolved, That should any Bible Societies choose to purchase Bibles and 
Testaments from our depository, they may procure the^ on the same terms, 
whether auxiliary to the American Bible Society, or directly auxiliary to us. 

' 6. Resolved, That a copy ^f this report be sent to the American Bible Society, * 
to the Maryland State Bible Society, and that it be printed in the *' Christiao 
Advocate and Journal.*' Signed by order of the board, 

N. Bangs, eth Vice President. 
Samucl Williams, jRec. Sec'y. 
Mw-York, JVov. 11, 1834. 



X 



476 Dtscripifon ^ a Mound — The Nobleness of Htmilii}f. 

OTSCftlPTION OF A MOUND, 
R4emtly diiccpm'^d </n the banks of the Genesee river. 



Mr. Yuckce, — If th^i){iqakiei, of the 
uriet, I tend yoa fir |lIbIIcation in the Fi 



country are of interest to the aj^rieui. 
turiet, I lend yoa fir |i(bIIcation in the Farmer the following description of an 
ancAnt mound/lately fiyind on the banks cj^ihe Genesee river in cleaiing the land 
for a wop of wheat. • • « 

The mound is about ninety feet in circumference, thirty *feet diameter, and 
eight feet in hsight. *Itia in the centre of a flat piece of ground of about six rods 
square, bounded on the north by^ a ravine qb^ hundred and fifty feet deep per- 
pendicular banks, on the east "by gently rising ground, on the south by another 
ravine, equal to the one on th^ north in depth ; on the West the river banks de. 
• sflMid pr^ctpitously ttt the rivef about three hundred feet. It is situate nearly 
opposite the' late residence of 'Mary Jamiaspn, the *- white woman.* The site is 
truly romantic* and the prospect the most beautiful that can be ini^mned, com- 
mandiiig an enensive view up and down the Genesee river, and overnie Gardow 
•^ flats, ViUi parts of the towns of Castile and Perry,' and which would be much 
increased if the woods were more cleared away. On making an excavation into 
the mound a skeleton was discovered, with the head placed to th^centre, lying 
on the back, the head resting on a flat stone, the arms folded acms the breast, 
and the feet extending teward the circumference of the mound ; large round stones 
of fronii forty to eighty pounds "weight were placed on each side of the skeleton, 
and over these and the skeleton were placed flat stones. The bones were in a 
very decayed state, and would not preserve their form when exposed to the air. 
Parts of three skeletons were discovered in abou^ one eighth of the whole mound, 
or the section in which the excavation was made. , 9 

Over one of the skeletons was placed twenty ^ix arrow heads, one stone knife, 
and a stone cleaver; also a copper skewer of about six or seven inches ip length, 
about the size of a pipe's tail, flattened a little at o«e ^nd, and slightly twisted. 
The stone knife is of vefey fine hard stone, clouded green, three or four inches in 
breadth, and about seven in length, ^ith a small hole in the middle, and about the 
thickness of a half quire of paper, sharpened edges. The cleaver of about the 
same dimensions as the knife, cut off square, and sewral notches made on one 
end ; a hole in the middle. This is of soil slate stone. The pipe bowl was made 
of coarse sand stone, about, an inch square, and rudely ornamented by rubbing 
notches on the upper edge of the bowl*. 

All the articles are of the' rudest- workmanship. Even the arrow heads were 
the rudest that can be found, and seem te have been made when the skill of 
making arrow heads was yet in its infancy. Large trees were found standing on 
the mound. These relics may be seen at the store of D. and T. Ay Is worth, on 
the river road, in Mount Morris. Respectfully yours, &«, 

WlLUAM B. MUNSON. ' 

Brooi^e Orete, MMngeton cc^ tAT. Y., July 13, 1835. 



THE NOBLENESS OF HUMIUTY. 

Oh the d^ of Charlotte county election, in 1799, as soon as Patrick Henry 
appeared on the ground, says Mr. Wirt, he was surrounded by the admiring crowd, 
and wheresoever be moved, the concourse ifoUowed him. A preacher of the 
Baptist Church whose piety was wounded by this homage paid to a mortal, aeked 
the people aloud, * Why they thus followed Mr. Henry abcmtT* *Mr. Henry,' 
said he, * is not a God !' * No,* said Mr. Henry, deeply aoected. both by the scene 
and the remark, * no, indeed, my friend, I am but a poor worm of the dusi-*«s 
fleeting and unsubstantial as the shadow of the cloud that flies ofer your field, 
and is remembered no more.* The tqne with which this was uttered, and the 
look which accompanied it, affected every heart and silenced every voice. Envy 
and opposition were disarmed by his humility ; the recoUeetion of his past ser- 
vices rushed upon every memory, and be * read bis histery,' in their twimminir 
eyes.— FFesferii Methodist, 

m 

ore 9 1912 



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